
Book_J 

GopghtN" 



COPVRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



THE OKEGON TRAIL 



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THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

NEW YORK • BOSTON • CHICAGO 
ATLANTA • SAN FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN & CO., Limited 

LONDON ■ BOMBAY • CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Ltd. 

TORONTO 




FRANCIS PARKMAN 



THE OHEGON THAIL 

SKETCHES 

OF 

PRAIRIE AND ROCKY-MOUNTAIN LIFE 

BY 
FRANCIS PARKMAN 

EDITED BY 

CHARLES H. J. DOUGLAS 

Chairman of the Department of English in the 
Dewitt Clinton High School, New York City 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
1910 



All rights reserved 






Copyright, 1910, 
By the MACMILLAN COMPANY. 



Set up and electrotyped. Published January', 1910. 



Norbjooti ilregg 

J. S. Gushing Co. — Berwick & Smith Co, 

Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. 



©CI.A253'.J08 



PREFACE 

The text here presented is that of the Knickerbocker 
Magazine, in which The Oregon Trail was printed as a 
serial in 1847, 1848, 1849, at first with the sub-title, A Sum- 
mer's Journey Out of Bounds. By a Bosto?iian ; but after 
the first instalment, with no sub-title, and with the name of 
the author, F. Parkman, Jr. In 1849 the series was pub- 
lished in book form as The Oregon Trail; Sketches of 
Prairie and Rocky Mountain Life — a title subsequently 
extended by the publisher to The California and Oregon 
Trail; Sketches of Prairie and Rocky Mountain Life, which 
in turn was metamorphosed into Sketches of Prairie and 
Rocky Mountain Life; The Oregon Trail. Finally Park- 
man, who disliked these changes, repudiated all variations 
of the title as it was given to the first book, and as it is here 
retained. Of the text itself there have also been numerous 
readings, — by no means all of them improvements upon 
the first. In the present edition the only change from the 
Knickerbocker text is the omission of certain passages which 
the author himself, when years and experience had given 
him perspective, found too personal or too temporary in 
interest for a historical narrative. 



vu 



CONTENTS 



Portrait of Francis Parkman 
Preface ..... 
Introduction 

I. Francis Parkman . 



. Frontispiece 



II. 


The Oregon Trail . 


The Oregon Trail 


CHAPTER 




I. 


The Frontier . 


II. 


Breaking the Ice 


III. 


Fort Leavenworth . 


IV. 


"Jumping Off" 


V. 


Tlie " Big Bhie " . 


VI. 


The Platte and the Desert 


VII. 


The Buffalo . 


VIII. 


Taking French Leave 


IX. 


Scenes at Fort Laramie . 


X. 


The War-parties 


XL 


Scenes at the Camp 


XII. 


Ill-luck .... 


XIII. 


Hunting Indians 


XIV. 


The Ogallallah Village . 


XV. 


The^Hunting Camp . 



Vll 



XI 

xiv 



18 

21 

31 

47 

59 

74 

89 

102 

122 

139 

145 

167 

186 





CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 




XVI. 


The Trappers 


XVII. 


The Black Hills . 


XVIII. 


A Mountain Hunt 


XIX. 


Passage of the Mountains . 


XX. 


The Lonely Journey . 


XXI. 


The Pueblo and Bent's Port 


XXII. 


Tete Rouge, the Volunteer . 


XXIII. 


Indian Alarms 


XXIV. 


The Chase .... 


XXV. 


The Buffalo Camp 


XXVI. 


Down the Arkansas . 


XXVII. 


The Settlements . 



PAGE 

207 
216 
220 
231 
247 
260 

27;) 

278 
288 
297 
.311 
327 

337 



INTRODUCTION 

I. Francis Parkman 

The appearance in the Knickerbocker Magazine, in 1847, 
1848, 1849, of the series of narrative and descriptive sketches 
of prairie and Rocky mountain life that were afterward 
published together as The Oregon Trail marked the cul- 
mination of an epoch in the life of a writer who twenty 
years later was to take rank as one of the most command- 
ing figures in the field of American historical literature. 

Francis Parkman, Jr., son of a Unitarian minister in 
Boston, learned to love out-of-door life on the farm of 
his maternal grandfather in Medford. When he was twelve 
or thirteen years old, he witnessed with unalloyed delight 
the war-dance of a wandering band of Sacs and Foxes upon 
Boston common. ''Soon after this," says Mr. Farnham, 
in his admirable biography of the historian, "his interest 
was more deeply stirred by reading Cooper; as early as 1841 
he had become so identified with the novelist's red heroes 
that he dreamed of them, talked of them more than of any- 
thing else, emulated them in woodcraft, when on his walks 
and his longer vacation journeys, often in the full flow of 
his enthusiasm whooping and jumping about and imitating 
the calls of wild animals." Before he was eighteen he had 
determined to write a history of the French and Indian war. 

But the personality of Frank Parkman was not more 
different from that of Fenimore Cooper than was the pur- 
pose of the historian from that of the novelist. "With a 
breadth of view unusual in so young a mind," declares 
Parkman's biographer, " he saw that for his theme would 
be needed a much wider range of experience and knowledge 
than the study would give ; and he wisely estimated a knowl- 
edge of the wilderness and its life as among the most impor- 
tant elements of his preparation. . . . 

" He now began, on entering Harvard, a course of physical 



Xll INTRODUCTION 

training by which he hoped to acquire the utmost strength, 
agiUty, and endurance. ... He took long walks at a pace 
his companions found it hard to keep up; he practised rifle 
shooting at birds, chipmunks, and other animals; he also 
worked in the gymnasium and riding school with great 
energy and success. Thus he systematically prepared him- 
self for trips in the wilderness. From his freshman year 
onward he devoted every summer vacation to journeys about 
the United States and Canada, partly in inhabited regions 
to collect historic material, and partly in the wilderness to 
study its features and the experiences of life on the border 
and in the woods." ^ 

That his zeal for physical training outran his judgment 
appears from the fact that he was obliged to drop his 
studies for a while, in the fall of 1843, for a trans- Atlantic 
trip. However, he was able to graduate with his class the 
next year; and, yielding to the wishes of his father, who dis- 
approved of his son's plan of devoting his life to exploiting 
the Indians, he read law for two years. In 1846, though 
suffering from the complaint brought on by overexercise 
three years before, and by weakness of the eyes induced by 
study under improper conditions, he determined upon a 
journey to the Rocky mountains, "with a view to studying 
the manners and character of Indians in their primitive 
state." 2 His route was to be that taken by the emigrant 
trains which, since the year 1838, had crossed the plains 
beyond the Mississippi in ever increasing numbers on their 
way to Oregon and California. For several months he 
endured the hardships of life among the savages of the 
Northwest, much of the time living with the fierce Sioux in 
the Black hills. When, in the fall of 1846, he returned to 
the settlements, he had obtained the information that he 
desired; but his health was so broken by exposure that 
never afterward was he able to venture very far from the 
boundaries of civilization ; and his eyesight was so impaired 
from the blinding smoke of the Indian lodges and the glare 
of the prairie sun, that he was thenceforward dependent 
upon amanuenses for the preparation of his copy. 

The story of Parkman's life subsequent to the publica- 

1 Farnham, Life, pp. 51-52. 

2 Prefatory note, The Oregon Trail, 1849 edition. 



INTRODUCTION xiii 

tion of The Oregon Trail is quickly told, not because his 
later career was either brief or unproductive, but because, 
being devoted unremittingly to the accumulation and 
digesting of documentary materials for his history, the 
plan of which grew as the years elapsed, it is without fur- 
ther spectacular incident. More than a hundred folio 
volumes of copied documents, accumulated in Europe and 
America during a period of forty years, formed the basis of 
The Conspiracy of Pontiac (1851) and of the series of his- 
tories that comprise The Pioneers of France in the New 
World (1865), The Jesuits in North America (1867), La 
Salle and the Discovery of the Great West (1869), The Old 
Regime in Canada (1874), Coimt Froritenac and New France 
under Louis XIV (1877), Montcalm and Wolf (1884), and A 
Half Century of Conflict (1892). This series, which covers 
the struggle between France and England for the mastery 
of North America, has been pronounced "a work of im- 
mense research, perfect candor, and very rare ability." 
Mr. Parkman died at his home in Jamaica Plain in his 
native state, November 8, 1893, in his seventy-first year. 
An appreciative and discriminating life of the historian, by 
Charles Haight Farnham, was published in uniform style 
with his works by Little, Brown Company, 1900. 

Parkman's intellect was strikingly virile and sane. In 
all his works his method is essentially objective — he is 
very accurate in observing and entirely candid in recording. 
The chief merit of his literary style — a mer^t that, in spite 
of numerous evidences of haste and inexperience on the 
part of the author in his earliest work, is conspicuous even 
in The Oregon Trail — lies in the fact that, free alike from 
vagaries of sentence-structure and from straining after 
rhetorical effect, it permits of the apprehension, by means 
of an exact vocabulary, of subject-matter which, of com- 
pelling interest in itself, is always presented in orderly 
sequence. 

A straightforward narrative of actual events, based upon 
a diary written on the spot, The Oregon Trail breathes the 
very spirit of the prairies and the mountains. "This 
book," declares Farnham, "merits the reader's attention 
not only as a record of Indian life now no longer visible, 
but especially as a revelation of the writer's enthusiastic 



XIV INTRODUCTION 



love of freedom, adventure, and activity; it shows with 
what absolute indifference he faced danger, with what 
fortitude he endured hardship, fatigue, and suffering, with 
what energy and persistence he pursued a most hazardous 
undertaking to a successful close. This trip and its record, 
so characteristic of the man, were a striking culmination 
of his study of nature in her wildest and grandest solitudes 
of prairie, desert, forest, and mountain, and in the com- 
pany of the wildest tribes of men." ^ 

II. The Oregon Trail 

Oregon, land of mystery ! Guarded on the east by im- 
passable mountains, and on the west by a trackless ocean ! 
Stretching from the deserts of the south to the ice fields of the 
north ! The silence of its impenetrable forests broken only 
by the thunder of its cataracts ! Home of the beaver, the 
antelope, and the grizzly bear ! Fascinating with promise 
of adventure and wealth ! 

The first visits of white men to what later came to be 
called the Oregon country were made by water, expeditions 
having been fitted out from the western ports of Mexico 
for the purpose of tracing the northern coasts, as early as 
1539. Thereafter British, Dutch, and French navigators, 
doubhng Cape Horn, touched at various points on the north- 
ern Pacific coast, at long intervals, for two centuries and a 
half, during w4iich time a profitable fur trade was built up 
with the natives. 

The credit of having first brought forward the project of 
crossing the American continent from the extreme white 
settlements to the shores of the Pacific belongs to Jonathan 
Carver, a native of Connecticut, who, during service in the 
French and Indian war and later, while exploring the 
sources of the Mississippi, had learned from the Indians 
" that the four most capital rivers on the continent of North 
America,' viz. the St. Lawrence, the Mississippi, the River 
Bourbon, 2 and the Oregon, or River of the West, . . . have 
their sources in the same neighborhood." The route pro- 
posed by Carver, who expressed a belief that the source of 

1 Life, p. 71. 2 i^ed River of the North. 



INTRODUCTION XV 

the fourth river mentioned by him was "rather farther 
west" than were the sources of the other three, was "up a 
branch of the River Messorie, till, having discovered the 
source of the Oregon, or River of the West, on the other side 
of the lands that divide the waters which run into the Gulf 
of Mexico from those that fall into the Pacific Ocean, he 
would have sailed down that river to the place where it is 
said to empty itself." Broached in 1768, Carver's scheme 
was lost sight of in the growing troubles between Great 
Britain and her American colonies. Twenty-four years 
later, Sir Alexander Mackenzie, in the service of the North- 
west fur company of. Montreal, ascended the Peace river 
from Lake Athabasca to its source, in the Rocky mountains, 
near the 54th degree of latitude, and more than 900 miles 
from its mouth. Within half a mile of one of these springs he 
embarked on another stream, now known as Eraser's river, 
down which he floated in canoes about 250 miles; then, 
leaving the river, he proceeded westward about 200 miles 
by land, reaching the Pacific ocean in latitude 53 degrees 
21 minutes ^ — the first white man to cross the American 
continent at its widest part. 

Interest in the North Pacific country was greatly stimu- 
lated by the diffusion of information obtained by Captain 
James Cook, an Englishman who, having twice circum- 
navigated the globe, was despatched by the British gov- 
ernment in 1776 to make observations upon the coast of 
"New Albion," with a view to finding a passage by water 
from the Pacific ocean to Hudson bay. From a compari- 
son of the prices of furs which Cook had found prevailing in 
Canton with those of the same articles obtainable in London, 
it was evident, not only that the furs of Canada might be 
gainfully exported to China, but that still greater profit 
might be realized by means of a direct trade between China 
and the northwest coast of America, where it was now 
known that the finest furs were to be obtained more easily 
than anywhere else in the world. Russian traders were the 
first to avail themselves of Cook's discoveries, no other 
countries sending out expeditions till 1787, when the ship 
Columbia and the sloop Washington were fitted out by a 

1 Barrows, Oregon, p. 36, says 53° 21'. 



INTRODUCTION 



compan}^ of Boston merchants, and despatched around 
Cape Horn. In 1791 no fewer than seven American ves- 
sels arrived in the North Pacific, among them the Columbia, 
whose commander discovered the river that bears the name 
of his ship. 

In the extension of American influence and dominion 
beyond the Mississippi the services of Thomas Jefferson 
were of supreme importance. As early as 1787, when 
Jefferson was American minister at Paris, his efforts had 
been enlisted in behalf of a scheme for carrying on a 
trade in furs on the northwest coast of America. In 1792, 
at his suggestion, Captain Meriwether Lewis, with a French 
botanist, was engaged by the American Philosophical society 
to proceed to the northwest coast by land. The recall of 
the botanist by the French minister for services elsewhere 
put an end to this enterprise; but in January, 1803, while 
the purchase of Louisiana by the American government 
was under consideration, Mr. Jefferson, then president of 
the United States, in a confidential message, recommended 
to Congress that steps be taken to have that part of the 
continent explored by American agents. The approval 
of the president's plan and the commissioning of Messrs. 
Lewis and Clark to explore the Missouri to its sources and 
then to seek and trace to its termination in the Pacific some 
stream, "whether the Columbia, the Oregon, or the Colo- 
rado, or any other which might offer the most direct and 
practicable water communication across the continent for 
the purposes of commerce," resulted in an expedition the 
importance of which to the country was second only to 
that of the purchase of the territory traversed by them. 

The journals of Lewis and Clark, whose journey, begun 
in 1804, was not completed till 1806, contain the first de- 
tailed account of the wonders of the Oregon country. The 
publication of the history of the expedition produced a 
profound impression in Great Britain and America. The 
route of these intrepid explorers, as described by themselves, 
was '' up the Missouri to the Great Falls, 2575 miles, thence 
by land [over the eastern ranges of the Rocky mountains, 
through the pass since called by their names, in north 
latitude 47 degrees, then] following Lewis's Paver over to 
Clark's River and down that river [from this point the 



INTRODUCTION XVll 

Columbia] to Travellers' Rest, where all the different roads 
meet, and thence across the rugged part of the Rocky- 
Mountains [the Cascade range] to the navigable waters of 
the Columbia; thence down the river to the Pacific Ocean, 
making the total distance 4134 miles." 

In October, 1810, John Jacob Astor, a merchant of New 
York who had long been engaged in the fur trade in connec- 
tion with the British companies, and who had been deeply 
impressed with the results of the expedition of Lewis and 
Clark, became engaged in the great enterprise of the Pacific 
fur company. His plan was to establish at the mouth of 
the Columbia river a factory with stations at various ad- 
vantageous points in the country di*ained by it, at which 
agents of the company should procure furs from the Indians 
and trappers in exchange for manufactured articles to be 
sent to the factory once a year in a ship from New York. 
The ship, having reloaded with pelts, was to proceed to 
Canton, where the furs would be sold and a cargo of tea 
taken on for New York. In the establishment of this 
system two expeditions, one by sea and one by land, were 
to cooperate. The ship Tonquin, leaving New York in 
Septem.ber, 1810, arrived at the Columbia in March, 1811, 
and here a fort called Astoria was erected. The land forces, 
under Mr. William P. Hunt, leaving St. Louis in October, 
1810, did not reach Astoria till February, 1812, and then 
only after incredible hardships. 

With each expedition overland an effort was made to 
find a shorter and less toilsome route. Mr. Hunt, follow- 
ing the course taken by Lewis and Clark to the Falls of 
the Missouri, where the earlier explorers had struck across 
the country to the northwest, took a southwesterly course, 
crossing the Black hills and the plains beyond the Big 
Horn or Wind river, which the party ascended for some 
distance. Then, crossing to another stream farther south, 
they made their passage through the mountains near the 
head of the Yellowstone, On the western side of the 
ridge they embarked in*canoes on a stream, probably the 
Lewis, expecting to float down it to the falls of the Columbia; 
but they encountered so many obstructions that they were 
forced to resume their march, which from this point to the 
mouth of the Columbia was made in separate parties pur- 



xvill INTRODUCTION 

suing different routes. This enterprise, which was wisely- 
planned and amply financed, was brought to a sudden ter- 
mination by the breaking out of the war of 1812-1815. 

A great step in shortening the overland route to the 
Rockies was made in 1819-1820, when Colonel Stephen H. 
Long, with a large number of army officers and men of 
science, abandoning the circuitous route by the Upper 
Missouri, proceeded up the valley of the Platte, across the 
plains of what is now the state of Nebraska, to the forks of 
that river, whence he followed the South fork to its sources 
in the Rockies, near the 40th degree of latitude. This 
expedition, which was sent out by the government in an 
effort to regulate intercourse with the Indians of the Great 
plains, did not cross the Rocky mountains, but, crossing 
the country to the headwaters of the Arkansas in the same 
neighborhood, descended the valley of that river to the 
Mississippi. 

The unfavorable nature of the reports brought back by 
this expedition concerning the region traversed by it did 
nothing to revive trade with the Oregon country, which, 
since the disastrous ending of the Astoria scheme, had 
sunk to vanishing proportions. 

Before the overthrow of Spanish authority in Mexico, 
American fur traders had begun to deal with the northern- 
most provinces of that country; and after that event large 
caravans passed regularly each summer between St. Louis 
and Santa Fe, the capital of New Mexico, on the Rio Grande. 
It was not, however, until 1823 that any attempt was made 
to reestablish commercial communication between the 
United States and the territories west of the Rocky moun- 
tains. In the spring of that year Mr. William H. Ashley, 
of St. Louis, who had been for some time engaged in the 
fur trade of the Missouri and Yellowstone countries, pro- 
ceeded up the Platte, at the head of a party of three hundred 
men, with horses carrying merchandise and baggage, by 
the North fork, to the Sweetwater, which had not been 
previously explored. The sources of this stream were 
found to be situated in a remarkable valley or cleft of the 
Rocky mountains, in the latitude of 42 degrees 20 minutes; 
and immediately beyond them were discovered those of 
another stream, flowing southwestward, which proved to 
be the Green river, one of the headwaters of the Colorado. 



INTRODUCTION XIX 

Mr. Ashley at this time proceeded no farther west than 
the country about these streams, where with his men he 
passed the summer in trapping and in trading with the 
Indians. So great, however, were the advantages of the 
route worked out by him over any of those that had pre- 
viously been followed that it fast grew in favor with travellers 
from the East to points beyond the Rocky mountains. In 
1824 Mr. Ashley made another expedition up the Platte 
and through the cleft in the mountains, which has since 
been generally called the South pass ; then, advancing farther 
west to a lake to which he gave his own name, he there 
built a fort, in which he left about a hundred men. Two years 
afterward a six-pound cannon was hauled from the Missouri 
to this post, a distance of over twelve hundred miles ; and 
in 1828 many wagons heavily laden performed the same 
journey. So successful was the business of Mr. Ashley and 
that of his successors, Messrs. Smith, Jackson, and Sublette,^ 
that many expeditions were made to the same region by 
different parties, some of whom carried their enterprises far 
down the rivers of the western slopes, while Smith himself 
twice crossed the continent to the Pacific. An expedition 
le(^ by Pilcher in 1827 from Council Bluffs, on the Missouri, 
through the South pass to the Colorado, comprised forty- 
five men and more than a hundred horses; and one con- 
ducted by Captain Benjamin L. E. Bonneville, the first 
leader to cross north of the settled provinces of Mexico, 
from the waters of the Atlantic to those of the Pacific, with 
wagons, numbered over a hundred men, with twenty 
wagons and many horses and mules, carrying merchandise 
from Missouri up the valley of the Platte to the countries 
of the Colorado and the Columbia. Two expeditions, made 
about this time by Mr. Nathaniel J. Wyeth, of Boston, 
overland to the Columbia, which, like that of Mr. Astor, 
contemplated the shipment of manufactured goods to the 
Pacific countries and the transport of furs to the United 
States and even to China, but which, owing chiefly to lack 
of sufficient capital, failed completely, were notable for 
including in their scope the export, not only of furs, but 
also of the salmon with which the rivers of the northwest 

1 Mr. William Sublette. 



XX INTRODUCTION 



abound, and which now form so important a part of the 
shipments from that region. 

By this time the influences which near the beginning of 
the century had led to the emigration of hundreds of families 
from New England to western New York and to Ohio, and 
later of thousands of others from the more thickly settled 
states to Indiana, Illinois, Missouri, and Michigan, began 
again to be felt in the formation in various parts of the 
union of societies for emigration to Oregon. Then began 
the procession across the great American desert of those 
caravans of "prairie schooners" that for upward of twenty 
years formed the most striking feature of civilized life in 
the country west of the Mississippi river, and whose route 
up the valley of the Platte and through the South pass 
began to be called the Oregon trail. Until 1843 the parties 
were so small, so ill provided with requisite supplies or so 
incompetently guided that they suffered much from hunger, 
thirst, fatigue, and dread of the Indians — few of them 
reaching the places of their destination, and the accounts 
of their experiences by those who returned to the United 
States being by no means such as to inspire others to follow 
them. Moreover, nothing like an assurance of protection, 
after they should have made their settlements, was afforded 
them by their government ; for it must be remembered that 
under the provisions of the treaty of 1818, by which the 
differences between Great Britain and America growing 
out of the war of 1812-1815 had been adjusted, all terri- 
tories and their waters claimed by either of these powers 
west of the Rocky mountains were to be free to the citizens 
of both countries for the space of ten years — a period 
subsequently indefinitely extended. 

In 1842 General John C. Fremont was sent by the gov- 
ernment to make a careful survey of the route to the Pacific 
coast by the Platte and the South pass. Excitement in 
the United States with reference to the occupation of Oregon 
greatly increased when, in February, 1843, in response to a 
suggestion in a message from President Tyler, the senate 
passed a bill for the occupation and settlement of the ter- 
ritory of Oregon and for extending the laws of the United 
States to cover it. On the strength of the protection held 
out by this action, and of assurances from Dr. Marcus Whit- 



INTRODUCTION XXl 



man, an Oregon missionary then revisiting the East, that a 
route practicable for wagons could be found from Fort Hall 
on the Lewis, beyond the Rocky mountains, to the Colum- 
bia, a thousand persons — men, women, and children — 
assembled at Westport, a well-known rendezvous, near the 
Missouri river, on the frontier of the state of Missouri, 
from which they began their march to Oregon, with a large 
number of wagons, horses, and cattle, in June, 1843. Of 
this remarkable expedition Mr. Greenhow, the scholarly 
historian of the Pacific countries, says : — 

''They pursued the route along the banks of the Platte, 
and its northern branch, which had been carefully surveyed 
in the preceding year by Lieutenant Fremont, of the United 
States army, to the South Pass, in the Rocky Mountains; 
thence through the valleys of the Green and Bear rivers 
by the Hudson Bay Company's post, called Fort Hall, on 
the Lewis ; and thence, in separate parties, to the Willamet 
valley, where they arrived in October. Their journey, of 
more than two thousand miles, was, of course, laborious 
and fatiguing; they were subjected to many difficulties 
and privations, and seven of their party died on the way, 
from sickness or accident. Their numbers and discipline, 
however, enabled them to set at defiance the Sioux and 
the Blackfeet, those Tartars of the American steppes, who 
could only gaze from a distance at the crowd of palefaces 
leaving the sunny valleys of the Mississippi for the rugged 
wilds of the Columbia. Upon the whole, the difficulties 
were less than had been anticipated, . . . and the success 
of the expedition encouraged a still greater number to 
follow in 1844, before the end of which year the number 
of American citizens in Oregon exceeded three thousand." 
— Greenhow, pp. 391-392. 

This is the trail which, less than two years from the date 
last mentioned, Francis Parkman, lover of wild nature and 
enthusiastic student of Indian character, was following, 
notebook in hand, in the interest of American history. ° 



THE OREGON TRAIL 



CHAPTER I 



THE FRONTIER 



Last spring, 1846, was a busy season in the city of St. 
Louis. ° Not only were emigrants from every part of the 
country preparing for the journey to Oregon and California, 
but an unusual number of traders were making ready their 
wagons and outfits for Santa Fe.° Many of the emigrants, 5 
especially of those bound for California, were persons of 
wealth and standing. The hotels were crowded, and the 
gunsmiths and saddlers were kept constantly at work in 
providing arms and equipments for the different parties 
of travelers. Almost every day steamboats were leaving 10 
the levee and passing up the Missouri, crowded with pas- 
sengers on their way to the frontier. 

. In one of these, the Radnor, since snagged and lost, my 
friend and relative, Quincy A. Shaw, and myself; left St. 
Louis on the twenty-eighth of April, on a tour of curiosity 15 
and amusement to the Rocky mountains. ° The boat was 
loaded until the water broke alternately over her guards. 
Her upper deck was covered with large wagons ° of a peculiar 
form, for the Santa Fe trade, and her hold was crammed 
with goods for the same destination. There were also the 20 
equipments and provisions of a party of Oregon emigrants, 
a band of mules and horses, piles of saddles and harness, 
and a multitude of nondescript articles, indispensable on 
the prairies. Almost hidden in this medley one might have 
seen a small French cart, of the sort very appropriately 25 
called a ''mule-killer" beyond the frontiers, and not far 
distant a tent, together with a miscellaneous assortment of 
boxes and barrels. The whole equipage was far from pre- 
possessing in its appearance; yet, such as it was, it was 
destined to a long and arduous journey, on which the per- 30 
severing reader will accompany it. 

B 1 



2 - THE OREGON TRAIL 

The passengers on board the Radnor corresponded with 
her freight. In her cabin were Santa Fe traders, gamblers, 
speculators, and adventurers of various descriptions, and 
her steerage was crowded with Oregon emigrants, ''moun- 
5 tain men,"° negroes, and a party of Kansas Indians, who 
had been on a visit to St. Louis. 

Thus laden, the boat struggled upward for seven or eight 
days against the rapid current of the Missouri, grating 
upon snags, and hanging for two or three hours at a time 

lo upon sand-bars. We entered the mouth of the Missouri 
in a drizzling rain, but the weather soon became clear, 
and showed distinctly the broad and turbid river, with 
its eddies, its sand-bars, its ragged islands and forest- 
covered shores. The Missouri is constantly changing its 

15 course, wearing away its banks on one side, while it forms 
new ones on the other. Its channel is shifting continually. 
Islands are formed, and then washed away; and while 
the old forests on one side are undermined and swept off, 
a young growth springs up from the new soil upon the 

20 other. With all these changes, the water is so charged with 
mud and sand that it is perfectly opaque, and in a few 
minutes deposits a sediment an inch thick in the bottom 
of a tumbler. The river was now high; but when we 
descended in the autumn it was fallen very low, and all 

25 the secrets of its treacherous shallows were exposed to view. 
It was frightful to see the dead and broken trees, thick-set 
as a military abatis, ° firmly imbedded in the sand, and all 
pointing downstream, ready to impale any unhappy steam- 
boat that at high water should pass over that dangerous 

30 ground. 

In five or six days we began to see signs of the great 
western movement® that was then taking place. Parties 
of emigrants, with their tents and wagons, would be en- 
camped on open spots near the bank, on their way to the 

35 common rendezvous at Independence. On a rainy day, 
near sunset, we reached the landing of this place, which 
is situated some miles from the river, on the extreme 
frontier of Missouri. The scene was characteristic, for 
here were represented at one view the most remarkable 

40 features of this wild and enterprising region. On the 
muddy shore stood some thirty or forty dark slavish-looking 



THE FRONTIER 3 

Spaniards, gazing stupidly out from beneath their broad 
hats. They were attached to one of the Santa Fe com- 
panies, whose wagons were crowded together on the banks 
above. In the midst of these, crouching over a smoldering 
fire, was a group of Indians, belonging to a remote Mexican 5 
tribe. One or two French hunters from the mountains, 
with their long hair and buckskin dresses, were looking at 
the boat ; and seated on a log close at hand were three men, 
with rifles lying across their knees. The foremost of these, 
a tall, strong figure, with a clear blue eye and an open, 10 
intelligent face, might very well represent that race of 
restless and intrepid pioneers whose axes and rifles have 
opened a path from the Alleghanies to the western prairies. 
He was on his way to Oregon, probably a more congenial 
field to him than any that now remained on this side the 15 
great plains. 

Early on the next morning we reached Kansas, about 
five hundred miles from the mouth of the Missouri. Here 
we landed, and leaving our equipments in charge of my 
good friend Colonel Chick, whose log-house was the sub- 20 
stitute for a tavern, we set out in a wagon for Westport,° 
where we hoped to procure mules and horses for the journey. 

It was a remarkably fresh and beautiful May morning. 
The rich and luxuriant woods, through which the miserable 
road conducted us, were lighted by the bright sunshine 25 
and enlivened by a multitude of birds. We overtook on 
the way our late fellow-travelers, the Kansas Indians, 
who, adorned with all their finery, were proceeding home- 
ward at a round pace; and whatever they might have 
seemed on board the boat, they made a very striking and 30 
picturesque feature in the forest landscape. 

Westport was full of Indians, whose little shaggy ponies 
were tied by dozens along the houses and fences. Sacs 
and Foxes, with shaved heads and painted faces, Shawanoes 
and Delawares, fluttering in calico frocks and turbans, 35 
Wyandots dressed like white men, and a few wretched 
Kansas wrapped in old blankets, were strolling about the 
streets, or lounging in and out of the shops and houses. 

As I stood at the door of the tavern, I saw a remarkable- 
looking person coming up the street. He had a ruddy 40 
face, garnished with the stumps of a bristly red beard and 



THE OREGON TRAIL 



mustache; on one side of his head was a round cap with 
a knob at the top, such as Scottish laborers sometimes 
wear; his coat was of a nondescript form, and made of a 
gray Scotch plaid, with the fringes hanging all about it; 
S he wore pantaloons of coarse homespun, and hob-nailed 
shoes; and to complete his equipment, a little black pipe 
was stuck in one corner of his mouth. In this curious 
attire, I recognized Captain C. of the British army, who, 
with his brother, and Mr. R., an English gentleman, was 

lo bound on a hunting expedition across the continent. I had 
seen the captain and his companions at St. Louis. They 
had now been for some time at Westport, making prepara- 
tions for their departure, and waiting for a reinforcement, 
since they were too few in number to attempt it alone. 

15 They might, it is true, have joined some of the parties of 
emigrants who were on the point of setting out for Oregon 
and California; but they professed great disinclination to 
have any connection with the ''Kentucky fellows." 

The captain now urged it upon us that we should join 

20 forces and proceed to the mountains in company. Feel- 
ing no greater partiality for the society of the emigrants 
than they did, we thought the arrangement an advanta- 
geous one, and consented to it. Our future fellow-travelers 
had installed themselves in a little log-house, where we 

25 found them surrounded by saddles, harness, guns, pistols, 
. telescopes, knives, and, in short, their complete appoint- 
ments for the prairie. R., who professed a taste for natural 
history, sat at a table stuffing a woodpecker; the brother 
ot the captain, who was an Irishman, was splicing a trail- 

30 rope on the floor. The captain pointed out, with much 
complacency, the different articles of their outfit. "You 
see," said he, "that we are all old travelers. I am con- 
vinced that no party ever went upon the prairie better pro- 
vided." The hunter whom they had employed, a surly- 

35 looking Canadian, named Sorel, and their muleteer, an 

American from St. Louis, were lounging about the building. 

In a little log stable close at hand were their horses and 

mules, selected by the captain, who was an excellent judge. 

The alliance entered into, we left them to complete 

40 their arrangements, while we pushed our own to all con- 
venient speed. The emigrants, for whom our friends pro- 



THE FRONTIER 5 

fessed such contempt, were encamped on the prairie about 
eight or ten miles distant, to the number of a thousand or 
more, and new parties were constantly passing out from 
Independence to join them. They were in great confu- 
sion, holding meetings, passing resolutions, and drawing 5 
up regulations, but unable to unite in the choice of leaders 
to conduct them across the prairie. Being at leisure one 
day, I rode over to Independence. The town was crowded, 
A multitude of shops had sprung up to furnish the emi- 
grants and Santa Fe traders with necessaries for their 10 
journey; and there was an incessant hammering and 
banging from a dozen blacksmiths' sheds, where the heavy 
wagons were being repaired, and the horses and oxen 
shod. The streets were thronged with men, horses, and 
mules. While I was in the town, a train of emigrant 15 
wagons from Illinois passed through, to join the camp on 
the prairie, and stopped in the principal street. A multi- 
tude of healthy children's faces were peeping out from 
under the covers of the wagons. Here and there a buxom 
damsel was seated on horseback, holding over her sun- 20 
burnt face an old umbrella or a parasol, once gaudy enough, 
but now miserably faded. The men, very sober-looking 
countrymen, stood about their oxen; and as I passed I 
noticed three old fellows, who, with their long whips in 
their hands, were zealously discussing the doctrine of 25 
regeneration. ° The emigrants, however, are not all*of this 
stamp. Among them are some of the vilest outcasts in 
the country. I have often perplexed myself to divine the 
various motives that give impulse to this strange migra- 
tion; but whatever they may be, whether an insane hope 30 
of a better condition in life, or a desire of shaking off re- 
straints of law and society, or mere restlessness, certain it is 
that multitudes bitterly repent the journey, and after they 
have reached the land of promise are happy enough to 
escape from it. 35 

In the course of seven or eight days we had brought our 
preparations nearly to a close. Meanwhile our friends had 
completed theirs, and, becoming tired of Westport, they 
told us that they would set out in advance and wait at 
the crossing of the Kansas till we should come up. Ac- 40 
cordingly R. and the muleteer went forward with the 



6 THE OREGON TRAIL 

wagon and tent, while the captain and his brother, to- 
gether with Sorel, and a trapper named Boisverd, who 
had joined them, followed with the band of horses. The 
commencement of the journey was ominous, for the cap- 
5 tain was scarcely a mile from Westport, riding along in 
state at the head of his party, leading his intended buffalo 
horse by a rope, when a tremendous thunderstorm came on, 
and drenched them all to the skin. They hurried on to 
reach the place, about seven miles off, where R. was to 

lo have had the camp in readiness to receive them. But 
this prudent person, when he saw the storm approach- 
ing, had selected a sheltered glade in the woods, where 
he pitched his tent, and was sipping a comfortable cup of 
coffee while the captain galloped for miles beyond through 

15 the rain to look for him. At length the storm cleared 
away, and the sharp-eyed trapper succeeded in discovering 
his tent; R. had by this time finished his coffee, and was 
seated on a buffalo robe smoking his pipe. The captain 
was one of the most easy-tempered men in existence, so 

20 he bore his ill-luck with great composure, shared the dregs 
of the coffee with his brother, and lay down to sleep in his 
wet clothes. 

We ourselves had our share of the deluge. We were 
leading a pair of mules to Kansas when the storm broke. 

25 Such sharp and incessant flashes of lightning, such stun- 
ning and continuous thunder, I had never known before. 
The woods were completely obscured by the diagonal 
sheets of rain that fell with a heavy roar, and rose in spray 
from the ground; and the streams rose so rapidly that we 

30 could hardly ford them. At length, looming through the 
rain, we saw the log-house of Colonel Chick, who received 
us with his usual bland hospitality; while his wife, who, 
though a little soured and stiffened by too frequent attend- 
ance on camp-meetings, ° was not behind him in hospitable 

35 feeling, supplied us with the means of repairing our drenched 
and bedraggled condition. The storm, clearing away at 
about sunset, opened a noble prospect from the porch of 
the colonel's house, which stands upon a high hill. The sun 
streamed from the breaking clouds upon the swift and angry 

40 Missouri, and on the immense expanse of luxuriant forest 
that stretched from its banks back to the distant bluffs. 



THE FRONTIER 7 

Returning on the next day to Westport, we received a 
message from the captain, who had ridden back to dehver it 
in person, but finding that we were in Kansas, had intrusted 
it with an acquaintance of his named Vogel, who kept a 
small grocery and liquor shop. Whisky by the way cir- 5 
culates more freely in Westport than is altogether safe 
in a place where every man carries a loaded pistol in his 
pocket. As we passed this establishment, we saw Vogel's 
broad German face and knavish-looking eyes thrust from 
his door. He said he had something to tell us, and invited 10 
us to take a dram. Neither his liquor nor his message 
was very palatable. The captain had returned to give us 
notice that R., who assumed the direction of his party, had 
determined upon another route from that agreed upon be- 
tween us; and instead of taking the course of the traders, ° 15 
to pass northward by Fort Leavenworth, and follow the 
path marked out by the dragoons ° in their expedition of 
last summer. To adopt such a plan without consulting 
us, we looked upon as a very high-handed proceeding; 
but suppressing our dissatisfaction as well as we could, we 20 
made up our minds to join them at Fort Leavenworth, 
where they were to wait for us. 

.Accordingly, our preparation being now complete, we 
attempted one fine morning to commence our journey. 
The first step was an unfortunate one. No sooner were 25 
our animals put in harness than the shaft mule reared and 
plunged, burst ropes and straps, and nearly flung the cart 
into the Missouri. Finding her wholly uncontrollable, we 
exchanged her for another, with which we were furnished 
by our friend Mr. Boone of W^estport, a grandson of Daniel 3° 
Boone,° the pioneer. This foretaste of prairie experience 
was very soon followed by another. Westport was scarcely 
out of sight when we encountered a deep muddy gully, of a 
species that afterward became but too familiar to us; and 
here for the space of an hour or more the cart stuck fast. 35 



CHAPTER II 



BREAKING THE ICE 



Both Shaw and myself were tolerably inured to the 
vicissitudes of traveling. We had experienced them under 
various forms, and a birch canoe was as familiar to us as 
a steamboat. The restlessness, the love of wilds and 
5 hatred of cities, natural perhaps in early j^ears to every 
unperverted son of Adam, was not our only motive for 
undertaking the present Journey. My companion hoped 
to shake off the effects of a disorder that had impaired a 
constitution originally hardy and robust; and I was anx- 

lo ious to pursue some inquiries relative to the character and 
usages of the remote Indian nations, being already familiar 
with many of the border tribes. 

Emerging from the mud-hole where we last took leave 
of the reader, we pursued our way for some time along 

15 the narrow track, in the checkered sunshine and shadow 
of the woods, till at length, issuing forth into the broad 
light, we left behind us the farthest outskirts of the great 
forest that once spread unbroken from the western plains 
to the shore of the Atlantic. Looking over an interven- 

2oing belt of shrubbery, we saw the green, oceanlike ex- 
panse of prairie, stretching swell over swell to the horizon. 
It was a mild, calm spring day; a day when one is 
more disposed to musing and reverie than to action, and 
the softest part of his nature is apt to gain the ascendency. 

25 I rode in advance of the party, as we passed through the 
shrubbery, and as a nook of green grass offered a strong 
temptation, I dismounted and lay down there. All the 
trees and saplings were in flower, or budding into fresh 
leaf; the red clusters of the maple-blossoms and the rich 

30 flowers of the Indian apple were there in profusion; and 
I was half inclined to regret leaving behind the land of 
gardens for the rude and stern scenes of the prairie and 
the mountains. 

8 



BREAKING THE ICE 9 

Meanwhile the party came in sight out of the bushes. 
Foremost rode Henry Chatillon, our guide and hunter, a 
fine athletic figure, mounted on a hardy gray Wyandot 
pony. He wore a white blanket-coat, a broad hat of felt, 
moccasins, and pantaloons of deerskin, ornamented along 5 
the seams with rows of long fringes. His knife was stuck 
in his belt; his bullet-pouch and powder-horn hung at his 
side, and his rifle lay before him, resting against the high 
pommel of his saddle, which, like all his equipments, had 
seen hard service, and was much the worse for wear. Shaw 10 
followed close, mounted on a little sorrel horse, and leading 
a larger animal by a rope. His outfit, which resembled mine, 
had been provided with a view to use rather than ornament. 
It consisted of a plain, black Spanish saddle, with holsters ° 
of heavy pistols, a blanket rolled up behind, and the trail- 15 
rope attached to his horse's neck hanging coiled in front. 
He carried a double-barreled smooth-bore, while I boasted a 
rifle of some fifteen pounds' weight. At that time our attire, 
though far from elegant, bore some marks of civilization, 
and offered a very favorable contrast to the inimitable 20 
shabbiness of our appearance on the return journey. A 
red flannel shirt, belted around the waist like a frock, then 
constituted our upper garment; moccasins had sup- 
planted our failing boots; and the remaining essential 
portion of our attire consisted of an extraordinary article, 25 
manufactured by a squaw out of smoked buckskin. Our 
muleteer, Deslauriers, brought up the rear with his cart, 
waddling ankle-deep in the mud, alternately puffing at his 
pipe, and ejaculating in his prairie patois° : '' Sacre enfant 
de garce° ! " as one of the mules would seem to recoil before 30 
some abyss of unusual profundity. The cart was of the 
kind that one may see by scores around the market-place 
in Montreal, and had a white covering to protect the articles 
within. These were our provisions and a tent, with ammu- 
nition, blankets, and presents for the Indians. 35 

We were in all four men with eight animals ; for besides 
the spare horses led by Shaw and myself, an additional mule 
was driven along with us as a reserve in case of accident. 

After this summing up of our forces, it may not be amiss 
to glance at the characters of the two men who accom- 40 
panied us. 



10 THE OREGON TRAIL 



Deslauriers was a Canadian, with all the characteristics! 
of the true Jean Baptiste.° Neither fatigue, exposure, norj 
hard labor could ever impair his cheerfulness and gayety, 
nor his obsequious politeness to his bourgeois^; and whenj 
5 night came he would sit down by the fire, smoke his pipe, 
and tell stories with the utmost contentment. In fact, the 
prairie was his congenial element. Henry Chatillon was 
of a different stamp. When we were at St. Louis, several ■ 
gentlemen of the fur company ° had kindly offered to pro-f 

lo cure for us a hunter and guide suited for our purposes, ' 
and on coming one afternoon to the office, we found there 
a tall and exceedingly well-dressed man, with a face so. 
open and frank that it attracted our notice at once. Wei 
were surprised at being told that it was he who wished to I 

15 guide us to the mountains. He was born in a little French! 
town near St. Louis, and from the age of fifteen years had ' 
been constantly in the neighborhood of the Rocky moun- 
tains, employed for the most part by the company to supply 
their forts with buffalo meat. As a hunter he had but one 

20 rival in the whole region, a man named Simoneau, with 
whom, to the honor of both of them, he was on terms of the 
closest friendship. He had arrived at St. Louis the day.| 
before, from the mountains, where he had remained for . 
four 3''ears; and he now only asked to go and spend a day 

25 with his mother before setting out on another expedition. 
His age was about thirty; he was six feet high, and veryi 
powerfully and gracefully molded. The prairies had been! 
his school; he could neither read nor write, but he had a| 
natural refinement and delicacy of mind such as is very I 

30 rarely found, even in women. His manly face was a perfect ^ 
mirror of uprightness, simplicity, and kindness of heart; he 
had, moreover, a keen perception of character, and a tact . 
that would preserve him from flagrant error in any society.! 
Henry had not the restless energy of an Anglo-American, f 

35 He was content to take things as he found them ; and his 
chief fault arose from an excess of easy generosity, impelling 
him to give away too profusely ever to thrive in the world. ! 
Yet it was commonly remarked of him, that whatever he I 
might choose to do with what belonged to himself, the^ 

40 property of others was always safe in his hands. His brav- 
ery was as much celebrated in the mountains as his skill in 



BREAKING THE ICE 11 



hunting; but it is characteristic of him that in a country 
where the rifle is the chief arbiter between man and man, 
Henry was very seldom involved in quarrels. Once or 
twice, indeed, his quiet good-nature had been mistaken 
and presumed upon, but the consequences of the error 5 
were so formidable that no oiie was ever known to repeat 
it. No better evidence of the intrepidity of his temper 
could be wished than the common report that he had 
killed more than thirty grizzly bears. He was a proof of 
what unaided nature will sometimes do. I have never, lo 
in the city or in the wilderness, met a better man than my 
noble and true-hearted friend, Henry Chatillon. 

We were soon free of the woods and bushes, and fairly 
upon the broad prairie. Now and then a Shawanoe passed 
us, riding his little shaggy pony at a "lope"°; his calico 15 
shirt, his gaudy sash, and the gay handkerchief bound 
around his snaky hair fluttering in the wind. At noon 
we stopped to rest not far from a little creek replete with 
frogs and young turtles. There had been an Indian en- 
campment at the place, and the framework of their lodges ° 20 
still remained, enabling us very easily to gain a shelter 
from the sun, by merely spreading one or two blankets 
over them. Thus shaded, we sat upon our saddles, and 
Shaw for the first time lighted his favorite Indian pipe; 
while Deslauriers was squatted over a hot bed of coals, 25 
shading his eyes with one hand, and holding a little stick 
in the other, with which he regulated the hissing contents 
of the frying-pan. The horses were turned to feed among 
the scattered bushes of a low oozy meadow. A drowsy 
springlike sultriness pervaded the air, and the voices of ten 30 
thousand young frogs and insects, just awakened into life, 
rose in varied chorus from the creek and the meadows. 

Scarcely were we seated when a visitor approached. 
This was an old Kansas Indian; a man of distinction, if 
one might judge from his dress. His head was shaved 35 
and painted red, and from the tuft of hair remaining on 
the crown dangled several eagle's feathers, and the tails 
of two or three rattlesnakes. His cheeks, too, were daubed 
with vermilion; his ears were adorned with green glass 
pendants ; a collar of grizzly bears' claws surrounded his 40 
neck, and several large necklaces of wampum hung on his 



12 THE OREGON TRAIL 

breast. Having shaken us by the hand with a cordial 
grunt of salutation, the old man, dropping his red blanket 
from his shoulders, sat down cross-legged on the ground. 
In the absence of liquor we offered him a cup of sweetened 
5 water, at which he ejaculated "Good!" and was beginning 
to tell us how great a man he was, and how many Pawnees 
he had killed, when suddenly a motley concourse appeared 
wading across the creek toward us. They filed past in 
rapid succession, men, women, and children; some were 

lo on horseback, some on foot, but all were alike squalid and 
wretched. Old squaws, mounted astride of shaggy, meager 
little ponies, with perhaps one or two snake-eyed children 
seated behind them, clinging to their tattered blankets; 
tall lank young men on foot, with bows and arrows in their 

15 hands; and girls whose native ugliness not all the charms 
of glass beads and scarlet cloth could disguise, made up the 
procession; although here and there was a man who, like 
our visitor, seemed to hold some rank in this respectable 
community. They were the dregs of the Kansas nation, 

20 who, while their betters were gone to hunt the buffalo, had 
left the village ° on a begging expedition to Westport. 

When this ragamuffin horde had passed, we caught our 
horses, saddled, harnessed, and resumed our journey. 
Fording the creek, the low roofs of a number of rude build- 

25 ings appeared, rising from a cluster of groves and woods 
on the left ; and riding up through a long lane, amid a pro- 
fusion of wild roses and early spring flowers, we found the 
log-church and school-houses belonging to the Methodist 
Shawanoe mission. The Indians were on the point of 

30 gathering to a religious meeting. Some scores of them, 
tall men in half-civilized dress, were seated on wooden 
benches under the trees; while their horses were tied to 
the sheds and fences. Their chief. Parks, a remarkably 
large and athletic man, was just arrived from Westport, 

35 where he owns a trading establishment. Beside this, he 
has a fine farm and a considerable number of slaves. In- 
deed the Shawanoes have made greater progress in agri- 
culture than any other tribe on the Missouri frontier; and 
both in appearance and in character form a marked contrast 

40 to our late acquaintance, the Kansas. 

A few hours' ride brought us to the banks of the river 



BREAKING THE ICE 13 

Kansas. Traversing the woods that lined it, and plowing 
through the deep sand, we encamped not far from the 
bank, at the Lower Delaware crossing. Our tent was 
erected for the first time on a meadow close to the woods, 
and the camp preparations being complete we began to 5 
think of supper. An old Delaware woman, of some three 
hundred pounds' weight, sat in the porch of a little log- 
house close to the water, and a very pretty half-breed girl 
was engaged, under her superintendence, in feeding a 
large flock of turkeys that were fluttering and gobbling lo 
about the door. But no ofl'ers of money, or even of to- 
bacco, could induce her to part with one of her favorites; 
so I took my rifle, to see if the woods or the river could 
furnish us anything. A multitude of quails were plain- 
tively whistling in the woods and meadows; but nothing 15 
appropriate to the rifle° was to be seen, except three buz- 
zards, seated on the spectral limbs of an old dead syca- 
more, that thrust itself out over the river from the dense 
sunny wall of fresh foliage. Their ugly heads were drawn 
down between their shoulders, and they seemed to luxuriate 20 
in the soft sunshine that was pouring from the west. As 
they offered no epicurean temptations, I refrained from 
disturbing their enjoyment; but contented myself with 
admiring the calm beauty of the sunset, for the river, 
eddying swiftly in deep purple shadows between the im- 25 
pending woods, formed a wild but tranquillizing scene. 

When I returned to the camp I found Shaw and an old 
Indian seated on the ground in close conference, passing 
the pipe between them. The old man was explaining 
that he loved the whites, and had an especial partiality for 30 
tobacco. Deslauriers was arranging upon the ground our 
service of tin cups and plates; and as other viands were 
not to be had, he set before us a repast of biscuit and 
bacon, and a large pot of coffee. Unsheathing our knives, 
we attacked it, disposed of the greater part, and tossed 35 
the residue to the Indian. Meanwhile our horses, now 
hobbled ° for the first time, stood among the trees, with 
their fore-legs tied together, in great disgust and astonish- 
ment. They seemed by no means to relish this foretaste 
of what was before them. Mine, in particular, had con- 40 
ceived a mortal aversion to the prairie life. One of them, 



14 THE OREGON TRAIL 



christened Hendrick, an animal whose strength and hardi- 
hood were his only merits, and who yielded to nothing 
but the cogent arguments of the whip, looked toward us 
with an indignant countenance, as if he meditated aveng- 
5 ing his wrongs with a kick. The other, Pontiac, a good 
horse, though of plebeian lineage, stood with his head 
drooping and his mane hanging about his eyes, with the 
grieved and sulky air of a lubberly boy sent off to school. 
Poor Pontiac ! his forebodings were but too Just; for when 

lo I last heard from him, he was under the lash of an Ogal- 
lallah brave, on a war party against the Crows. 

As it grew dark, and the voices of the whip-poor-wills 
succeeded the whistle of the quails, we removed our saddles 
to the tent, to serve as pillows, spread our blankets upon 

15 the ground, and prepared to bivouac for the first time that 
season. Each man selected the place in the tent which he 
was to occupy for the journey. To Deslauriers, however, 
was assigned the cart, into which he could creep in wet 
weather, and find a much better shelter than his bourgeois 

20 enjoyed in the tent. 

The river Kansas at this point forms the boundary line 
between the country of the Shawanoes and that of the 
Deiawares. We crossed it on the following day, rafting 
over our horses and equipage with much difficulty, and 

25 unlading our cart in order to make our way up the steep 
ascent on the farther bank. It was a Sunday morning; 
warm, tranquil, and bright; and a perfect stillness reigned 
over the rough inclosures and neglected fields of the Deia- 
wares, except the ceaseless hum and chirruping of myriads 

30 of insects. Now and then an Indian rode past on his way 
to the meeting-house, or through the dilapidated entrance 
of some shattered log-house an old woman might be dis- 
cerned, enjoying all the luxury of idleness. There was no 
village bell, for the Deiawares have none; and yet upon 

35 that forlorn and rude settlement was the same spirit of 
Sabbath repose and tranquillity as in some little New 
England village among the mountains of New Hampshire 
or the Vermont woods. 

Having at present no leisure for such reflections, we 

40 pursued our journey. A military road led from this point 
to Fort Leavenworth, and for many miles the farms and 



BREAKING THE ICE 15 

cabins of the Delawares were scattered at short intervals 
on either hand. The httle rude structures of logs, erected 
usually on the borders of a tract of woods, made a pictur- 
esque feature in the landscape. But the scenery needed 
no foreign aid. Nature had done enough for it; and the 5 
alternation of rich green prairies and groves that stood in 
clusters, or lined the banks of the numerous little streams, 
had all the softened and polished beauty of a region that 
has been for centuries under the hand of man. At that 
early season, too, it was in the height of its freshness and lo 
luxuriance. The woods were flushed with the red buds of 
the maple; there were frequent flowering shrubs unknown 
in the east ; and the green swells of the prairie were thickly 
studded with blossoms. 

Encamping near a spring by the side of a hill, we re- 15 
sumed our journey in the morning, and early in the after- 
noon had arrived within a few miles of Fort Leavenworth. 
The road crossed a stream densely bordered with trees, 
and running in the bottom of a deep woody hollow. We 
were about to descend into it, when a wild and confused 20 
procession appeared, passing through the water below, and 
coming up the steep ascent toward us. We stopped to let 
them pass. They were Delawares, just returned from a 
hunting expedition. All, both men and women, were 
mounted on horseback, and drove along with them a 25 
considerable number of pack mules, laden with the furs 
they had taken, together with the bufl'alo robes, kettles, 
and other articles of their traveling equipment, which, as 
well as their clothing and their weapons, had a worn and 
dingy aspect, as if they had seen hard service of late. At 30 
the rear of the party was an old man, who, as he came up, 
stopped his horse to speak to us. He rode a little tough 
shaggy pony, with mane and tail well knotted with burrs, 
and a rusty Spanish bit in its mouth, to which, by way of 
reins, was attached a string of rawhide. His saddle, robbed 35 
probably from a Mexican, had no covering, being merely a 
tree° of the Spanish form, with a piece of grizzly bear's 
skin laid over it, a pair of rude wooden stirrups attached, 
and in the absence of girth, a thong of hide passing around 
the horse's belly. The rider's dark features and keen snaky 40 
eye were unequivocally Indian. He wore a buckskin frock, 



16 THE OREGON TRAIL 

which, Hke his fringed leggings, was well polished and black- 
ened by grease and long service; and an old handkerchief 
was tied around his head. Resting on the saddle before him 
lay his rifle; a weapon in the use of which the Delawares 
5 are skillful ; though, from its weight, the distant prairie 
Indians are too lazy to carry it. 

"Who's your chief?" he immediately inquired. 
Henry Chatillon pointed to us. The old Delaware fixed 
his eyes intently upon us for a moment, and then senten- 

lo tiously remarked : 

*'No good! Too young!" With this flattering com- 
ment he left us, and rode after his people. 

This tribe, the Delawares, once the peaceful allies of 
William Penn,° the tributaries of the conquering Iroquois, 

15 are now the most adventurous and dreaded warriors 
upon the prairies. They make war upon remote tribes, 
the very names of which were unknown to their fathers 
in their ancient seats in Pennsylvania ; and they push these 
new quarrels with true Indian rancor, sending out their 

20 little war parties as far as the Rocky mountains, and into 
the Mexican territories. Their neighbors and former 
confederates, the Shawanoes, who are tolerable farmers, 
are in a prosperous condition; but the Delawares dwindle 
every year, from the number of men lost in their warlike 

25 expeditions. 

Soon after leaving this party, we saw, stretching on the 
right, the forests that, follow the course of the Missouri, 
and the deep woody channel through which at this point 
it runs. At a distance in front were the white barracks of 

30 Fort Leavenworth, just visible through the trees upon an 
eminence above a bend of the river. A wide green meadow, 
as level as a lake, la}^ between us and the Missouri, and upon 
this, close to a line of trees that bordered a little brook, 
stood the tent of the captain and his companions, with 

35 their horses feeding around it; but they themselves were 
invisible. Wright, their muleteer, was there, seated on 
the tongue of the wagon, repairing his harness. Boisverd 
stood cleaning his rifle at the door of the tent, and Sorel 
lounged idly about. On closer examination, however, we 

40 discovered the captain's brother, Jack, sitting in the tent, 
at his old occupation of splicing trail-ropes. He welcomed 



BREAKING THE ICE 17 

us in his broad Irish brogue, and said that his brother was 
fishing in the river, and R. gone to the garrison. They 
returned before sunset. Meanwhile we erected our own 
tent not far off, and after supper a council was held, in 
which it was resolved to remain one day at Fort Leaven- 5 
worth, and on the next to bid a final adieu to the frontier: 
or in the phraseology of the region, to "jump off!" Our 
deliberations were conducted by the ruddy light from a dis- 
tant swell of the prairie, where the long dry grass of last 
summer was on fire. lo 



CHAPTER III 



FORT LEAVENWORTH 



On the next morning we rode to Fort Leavenworth. 
Colonel, now General Kearny, to whom I had had the 
honor of an introduction when at St. Louis, was just ar- 
rived, and received us at his quarters with the high-bred 
5 courtesy habitual to him. Fort Leavenworth is in fact no 
fort, being without defensive works, except two block- 
houses. No rumors of war° had as yet disturbed its tran- 
quillity. In the square grassy area, surrounded by bar- 
racks and the quarters of the officers, the men were pass- 

lo ing and repassing, or lounging among the trees ; although 
not many weeks afterward it presented a different scene; 
for here the very offscourings of the frontier were con- 
gregated, to be marshaled for the expedition against Santa 
Fe.^° 

15 Passing through the garrison, we rode toward the Kicka- 
poo village, five or six miles beyond. The path, a rather 
dubious and uncertain one, led us along the ridge of high 
bluffs that bordered the Missouri; and by looking to the 
right or to the left, we could enjoy a strange contrast of 

20 opposite scenery. On the left stretched the prairie, rising 
into swells and undulations, thickly sprinkled with groves, 
or gracefully expanding into wide grassy basins of miles in 
extent; while its curvatures, swelling against the horizon, 
were often surmounted by lines of sunny woods; a scene 

25 to which the freshness of the season and the peculiar mel- 
lowness of the atmosphere gave additional softness. Below 
us, on the right, was a tract of ragged and broken woods. 
We could look down on the summits of the trees, some living 
and some dead; some erect, others leaning at every angle, 

30 and others still piled in masses together by the passage of 
a hurricane. Bej^ond their extreme verge, the turbid waters 
of the Missouri were discernible through the boughs, rolling 

18 



FORT LEAVENWOttTB 19 

powerfully along at the foot of the woody declivities on its 
farther bank. 

The path soon after led inland; and as we crossed an 
open meadow we saw a cluster of buildings on a rising 
ground before us, with a crowd of people surrounding 5 
them. They were the storehouse, cottage, and stables of 
the Kickapoo trader's establishment. Just at that moment, 
as it chanced, he was beset with half the Indians of the 
settlement. They had tied their wretched, neglected little 
ponies by dozens along the fences and outhouses, and were lo 
either lounging about the place, or crowding into the trad- 
ing house. Here were faces of various colors; red, green, 
white, and black, curiously intermingled and disposed over 
the visage in a variety of patterns. Calico shirts, red and 
blue blankets, brass ear-rings, wampum necklaces, ap- 15 
peared in profusion. The trader was a blue-eyed, open- 
faced man, who neither in his manners nor in his appear- 
ance betrayed any of the roughness of the frontier; though 
just at present he was obliged to keep a lynx eye on his 
suspicious customers, who, men and women, w^re climbing 20 
on his counter, and seating themselves among his boxes 
and bales. 

The village itself was not far off, and sufficiently illus- 
trated the condition of its unfortunate and self-abandoned 
occupants. Fancy to yourself a little swift stream, work- 25 
ing its devious way down a woody valley; sometimes 
wholly hidden under logs and fallen trees, sometimes issu- 
ing forth and spreading into a broad, clear pool; and on 
its banks in little nooks cleared away among the trees, 
miniature log-houses in utter ruin and neglect. A laby- 30 
rinth of narrow, obstructed paths connected these habita- 
tions one with another. Sometimes we met a stray calf, 
a pig or a pony, belonging to some of the villagers, who 
usually lay in the sun in front of their dwellings, and 
looked on us with cold, suspicious eyes as we approached. 35 
Farther on, in place of the log-huts of the Kickapoos, we 
found the pukwi lodges of their neighbors, the Pottawat- 
tamies, whose condition seemed no better than theirs. 

Growing tired at last, and exhausted by the excessive 
heat and sultriness of the day, we returned to our friend, 40 
the trader. By this time the crowd around him had dis- 



20 THE OREGON TRAIL 

persed, and left him at leisure. He invited us to his cot- 
tage, a httle white-and-green building, in the style of the 
old French settlements; and ushered us into a neat, well- 
furnished room. The blinds were closed, and the heat 
5 and glare of the sun excluded ; the room was as cool as a 
cavern. It was neatly carpeted too, and furnished in a 
manner that we hardly expected on the frontier. The 
sofas, chairs, tables, and a well-filled bookcase would not 
have disgraced an Eastern city; though there were one or 

lo two little tokens that indicated the rather questionable 
civilization of the region. A pistol, loaded and capped, 
lay on the mantelpiece ; and through the glass of the book- 
case, peeping above the works of John Milton, ° glittered 
the handle of a very mischievous-looking knife. 

15 Our host went out, and returned with iced water, glasses, 
and a bottle of excellent claret; a refreshment most wel- 
come in the extreme heat of the day; and soon after 
appeared a merry, laughing woman, who must have been, 
a 3^ear or two before, a very rich and luxuriant specimen 

20 of Creole ° beauty. She came to say that lunch was ready 
in the next room. Our hostess evidently lived on the 
sunny side of life, and troubled herself with none of its 
cares. She sat down and entertained us while we were 
at table with anecdotes of fishing parties, frolics, and the 

25 officers at the fort. Taking leave at length of the hospitable 
trader and his friend, we rode back to the garrison. 

Shaw passed on to the camp, while I remained to call 
upon Colonel Kearny. I found him still at table. There 
sat our friend the captain, in the same remarkable habili- 

30 ments in which we saw him at Westport ; the black pipe, 
however, being for the present laid aside. He dangled 
his little cap in his hand and talked of steeple-chases, 
touching occasionally upon his anticipated exploits in 
buffalo-iiunting. There, too, was R., somewhat more 

35 elegantly attired. For the last time we tasted the luxuries 
of civilization, and drank adieus to it in wine good enough 
to make us almost regret the leave-taking. Then, mount- 
ing, we rode together to the camp, where everything was 
in readiness for departure on the morrow. 



CHAPTER IV 

"jumping off " 

The reader need not be told that John Bull° never 
leaves home without encumbering himself with the greatest 
possible load of luggage. Our companions were no excep- 
tion to the rule. They had a wagon drawn by six mules 
and crammed with provisions for six months, besides am- 5 
munition enough for a regiment; spare rifles and fowling- 
pieces, ropes and harness; personal baggage, and a mis- 
cellaneous assortment of articles, which produced infinite 
embarrassment on the journey. They had also decorated 
their persons with telescopes and portable compasses, and lo 
carried English double-barreled rifles of sixteen-to-the- 
pound caliber, ° slung to their saddles in dragoon fashion. 

By sunrise on the twenty-third of May we had break- 
fasted; the tents were leveled, the animals saddled and 
harnessed, and all was prepared. " Avance donc° I get up !" 15 
cried Deslauriers from his seat in front of the cart. Wright, 
our friends' muleteer, after some swearing and lashing, got 
his insubordinate train in motion, and then the whole 
party filed from the ground. Thus we bade a long adieu 
to bed and board, and the principles of Blackstone's Com- 20 
mentaries.° The day was a most auspicious one; and yet 
Shaw and I felt certain misgivings, which in the sequel 
proved but too well founded. We had just learned that 
though R. had taken it upon him to adopt this course 
without consulting us, not a single man in the party was 25 
acquainted with it; and the absurdity of our friend's high- 
handed measure very soon became manifest. His plan 
was to strike the trail of several companies of dragoons, 
who last summer had made an expedition under Colonel 
Kearny to Fort Laramie, and by this means to reach the 30 
grand trail of the Oregon emigrants up the Platte. 

We rode for an hour or two when a familiar cluster of 
buildings appeared on a little hill. "Hallo!" shouted 

21 



22 THE OREGON TRAIL 

the Kickapoo trader from over his fence, "where are you 
going?" A few rather emphatic exclamations might have 
been heard among us, when we found that we had gone 
miles out of our way, and were not advanced an inch 
5 toward the Rocky mountains. So we turned in the direc- 
tion the trader indicated; and with the sun for a guide, 
began to trace a "bee line" across the prairies. We 
struggled through copses and lines of wood ; we waded 
brooks and pools of water; we traversed prairies as green 
loas an emerald, expanding before us for mile after mile; 
wider and more wild than the wastes Mazeppa° rode over: 

"Man nor brute, 
Nor dint of hoof, nor print of foot, 
Lay in the wild luxuriant soil; 
I J No sign of travel; none of toil; 

The very air was mute." 

Riding in advance, we passed over one of these great 
plains; we looked back and saw the line of scattered 
horsemen stretching for a mile or more; and far in the 

20 rear against the horizon, the white wagons creeping slowly 
along. "Here we are at last!" shouted the captain. 
And in truth we had struck upon the traces of a large body 
of horse. We turned joyfully and followed this new 
course, with tempers somewhat improved; and toward 

25 sunset encamped on a high swell of the prairie, at the foot 
of which a lazy stream soaked along through clumps of 
rank grass. It was getting dark. We turned the horses 
loose to feed. "Drive down the tent-pickets hard," said 
Henry Chatillon, "it is going to blow." We did so, and 

30 secured the tent as well as we could; for the sky had 
changed totally, and a fresh damp smell in the wind warned 
us that a stormy night was likely to succeed the hot clear 
day. The prairie also wore a new aspect, and its vast swells 
had grown black and somber under the shadow of the 

35 clouds. The thunder soon began to growl at a distance. 
Picketing and hobbling the horses among the rich grass 
at the foot of the slope, where we encamped, we gained 
a shelter just as the rain began to fall; and sat at the 
opening of the tent, watching the proceedings of the cap- 



^'JUMPING OFF^^ 23 

tain. In defiance of the rain he was stalking among the 
horses, wrapped in an old Scotch plaid. An extreme 
solicitude tormented him, lest some of his favorites should 
escape, or some accident should befall them; and he cast 
an anxious eye toward three wolves who were sneaking 5 
along over the dreary surface of the plain, as if he dreaded 
some hostile demonstration on their part. 

On the next morning we had gone but a mile or two, 
when we came to an extensive belt of woods, through the 
midst of which ran a stream, wide, deep, and of an appear- lo 
ance particularly muddy and treacherous. Deslauriers was 
in advance with his cart; he jerked his pipe from his mouth, 
lashed his mules, and poured forth a volley of Canadian 
ejaculations. In plunged the cart, but midway it stuck 
fast. Deslauriers leaped out knee-deep in water, and by dint 15 
of sacres and a vigorous application of the whip, he urged 
the mules out of the slough. Then approached the long 
team and heavy wagon of our friends; but it paused on 
the brink. 

"Now my advice is " began the captain, who had 20 

been anxiously contemplating the muddy gulf. 

"Drive on !" cried R. 

But Wright, the muleteer, apparently had not as yet 
decided the point in his own mind; and he sat still in his 
seat on one of the shaft-mules, whistling in a low contem- 25 
plative strain to himself. 

"My advice is," resumed the captain, "that we unload; 
for I'll bet any man five pounds that if we try to go through, 
we shall stick fast." 

"By the powers, we shall stick fast!" echoed Jack, the 30 
captain's brother, shaking his large head with an air of firm 
conviction. 

"Drive on! drive on!" cried R. petulantly. 

"Well," observed the captain, turning to us as we sat 
looking on, much edified by this by-play among our con- 35 
federates, " I can only give my advice, and if people won't 
be reasonable, why, they won't; that's all !" 

Meanwhile Wright had apparently made up his mind; 
for he suddenly began to shout forth a volley of oaths and 
curses, that, compared with the French imprecations of 40 
Deslauriers, sounded like the roaring of heavy cannon after 



24 THE OREGON TRAIL 

the popping and sputtering of a bunch of Chinese crackers. 
At the same time he discharged a shower of blows upon 
his mules, who hastily dived into the mud and drew the 
wagon lumbering after them. For a moment the issue was 
5 dubious. Wright writhed about in his saddle, and swore 
and lashed like a madman; but who can count on a team 
of half-broken mules ? At the most critical point, when 
all should have been harmony and combined effort, the 
perverse brutes fell into lamentable disorder, and huddled 

lo together in confusion on the farther bank. There was the 
wagon up to the hub in mud, and visibly settling every 
instant. There was nothing for it. but to unload; then to 
dig away the mud from before the wheels with a spade, 
and lay a causeway of bushes and branches. This agree- 

15 able labor accomplished, the wagon at length emerged; 
but if I mention that some interruption of this sort oc- 
curred at least four or five times a day for a fortnight, the 
reader will understand that our progress toward the Platte 
was not without its obstacles. 

20 We traveled six or seven miles farther, and "nooned" 
near a brook. On the point of resuming our journey, 
when the horses were all driven down to water, my home- 
sick charger ° Pontiac made a sudden leap across, and set 
off at a round trot for the settlements. I mounted my re- 

25 maining horse, and started in pursuit. Making a circuit, 
I headed the runaway, hoping to drive him back to camp; 
but he instantly broke into a gallop, made a wide tour on 
the prairie, and got past me again. I tried this plan re- 
peatedly, with the same result; Pontiac was evidently dis- 

30 gusted with the prairie; so I abandoned it, and tried 
another, trotting along gently behind him, in hopes that I 
might quietly get near enough to seize the trail-rope which 
was fastened to his neck, and dragged about a dozen feet 
behind him. The chase grew interesting. For mile after 

35 mile I followed the rascal, with the utmost care not to 
alarm him, and gradually got nearer, until at length old 
Hendrick's nose was fairly brushed bj^ the whisking tail 
of the unsuspecting Pontiac. Without drawing rein, I 
slid softly to the ground; but my long heavy rifie encum- 

40 bered me, and the low sound it made in striking the horn 
of the saddle startled him; he pricked up his ears, and 



'^JUMPING OFF'^ 25 

sprang off at a run. "My friend," thought I, remount- 
ing, ''do that again, and I will shoot you !" 

Fort Leavenworth was about forty miles distant, and 
thither I determined to follow him. I made up my mind 
to spend a solitary and supperless night, and then set out 5 
again in the morning. One hope, however, remained. 
The creek where the wagon had stuck was just before us; 
Pontiac might be thirsty with his run, and stop there to 
drink. I kept as near to him as possible, taking every 
precaution not to alarm him again; and the result proved lo 
as I had hoped: for he walked deliberately among the 
trees, and stooped down to the water. I alighted, dragged 
old Hendrick through the mud, and with a feeling of in- 
finite satisfaction picked up the slimy trail-rope, and 
twisted it three times round my hand. "Now let me see 15 
you get away again!" I thought, as I remounted. But 
Pontiac was exceedingly reluctant to turn back; Hen- 
drick, too, who had evidently flattered himself with vain 
hopes, showed the utmost repugnance, and grumbled in 
a manner peculiar to himself at being compelled to face 20 
about. A smart cut of the whip restored his cheerfulness; 
and dragging the recovered truant behind, I set out in 
search of the camp. An hour or two elapsed, when, near 
sunset, I saw the tents, standing on a rich swell of the 
prairie, beyond a line of woods, while the bands of horses 25 
were feeding in a low meadow close at hand. There sat 
Jack C, cross-legged, in the sun, splicing a trail-rope, and' 
the rest were lying on the grass, smoking and telling stories. 
That night we enjoyed a serenade from the wolves, more 
lively than any with which they had yet favored us; and 30 
in the morning one of the musicians appeared, not many 
rods from the tents, quietly seated among the horses, look- 
ing at us with a pair of large gray eyes; but perceiving 
a rifle leveled at him, he leaped up and made off in hot 
haste. 35 

I pass by the following day or two of our journey, for 
nothing occurred worthy of record. Should any one of my 
readers ever be impelled to visit the prairies, and should 
he choose the route of the Platte (the best, perhaps, that 
can be adopted), I can assure him that he need not think 40 
to enter at once upon the paradise of his imagination. 



26 THE OREGON TRAIL 

A dreary preliminary, protracted crossing of the threshold 
awaits him before he finds himself fairly upon the verge of 
the "great American desert"; those barren wastes, the 
haunts of the buffalo and the Indian, where the very 
5 shadow of civilization lies a hundred leagues behind him. 
The intervening country, the wide and fertile belt that ex- 
tends for several hundred miles beyond the extreme fron- 
tier, will probably answer tolerably well to his preconceived 
ideas of the prairie; for this it is from which picturesque 

lo tourists, painters, poets, and novelists, who have seldom 
penetrated farther, have derived their conceptions of the 
whole region. If he has a painter's eye, he may find his 
period of probation not wholly void of interest. The 
scenery, though tame, is graceful and pleasing. Here 

15 are level plains, too wide for the eye to measure; green 
undulations, like motionless swells of the ocean; abun- 
dance of streams, followed through all their windings by 
lines of woods and scattered groves. But let him be as 
enthusiastic as he may, he will find enough to damp his 

20 ardor. His wagons will stick in the mud; his horses will 
break loose; harness will give way, and axle-trees prove 
unsound. His bed will be a soft one, consisting often of 
black mud, of the richest consistency. As for food, he 
must content himself with biscuit and salt provisions; for 

25 strange as it may seem, this tract of country produces very 
little game. As he advances, indeed, he will see, molder- 
ing in the grass by his path, the vast antlers of the elk, and 
farther on, the whitened skulls of the buffalo, once swarm- 
ing over this now deserted region. Perhaps, like us, he 

30 may journey for a fortnight, and see not so much as the 
hoof-print of a deer; in the spring, not even a prairie hen 
is to be had. 

Yet, to compensate him for this unlooked-for deficiency 
of game, he will find himself beset with "varmints" innu- 

35 merable. The wolves will entertain him with a concerto 
at night, and skulk around him by day, just beyond rifle- 
shot ; his horse will step into badger-holes ; from every 
marsh and mud puddle will arise the bellowing, croaking, 
and trilling of legions of frogs, infinitely various in color, 

40 shape, and dimensions. A profusion of snakes will glide 
away from under his horse's feet, or quietly visit him in 



^'JUMPING OFF^^ 27 

his tent at night; while the pertinacious humming of un- 
numbered mosquitoes will banish sleep from his eyelids. 
When thirsty with a long ride in the scorching sun over 
some boundless reach of prairie, he comes at length to a 
pool of water, and alights to drink, he discovers a troop s 
of young tadpoles sporting in the bottom of his cup. Add 
to this, that all the morning the sun beats upon him with 
a sultry, penetrating heat, and that, with provoking regu- 
larity, at about four o'clock in the afternoon, a thunder- 
storm rises and drenches him to the skin. Such being lo 
the charms of this favored region, the reader will easily 
conceive the extent of our gratification at learning that for 
a week we had been journeying on the wrong track ! How 
this agreeable discovery was made I will presently explain. 

One day, after a protracted morning's ride, we stopped 15 
to rest at noon upon the open prairie. No trees were in 
sight; but close at hand, a little dribbling brook was 
twisting from side to side through a hollow; now forming 
holes of stagnant water, and now gliding over the mud 
in a scarcely perceptible current, among a growth of sickly 20 
bushes, and great clumps of tall rank grass. The day was 
excessively hot and oppressive. The horses and mules were 
rolling on the prairie to refresh themselves, or feeding among 
the bushes in the hollow. We had dined; and Deslauriers, 
puffing at his pipe, knelt on the grass, scrubbing our service 25 
of tin plate. Shaw lay in the shade, under the cart, to rest 
for a while, before the word should be given to "catch up." 
Henry Chatillon, before lying down, was looking about for 
signs of snakes, the only living things that he feared, and 
uttering various ejaculations of disgust, at finding several 30 
suspicious-looking holes close to the cart. I sat leaning 
against the wheel in a scanty strip of shade, making a pair 
of hobbles to replace those which my contumacious steed 
Pontiac had broken the night before. The camp of our 
friends, a rod or two distant, presented the same scene of 35 
lazy tranquillity. 

"Hallo!" cried Henry, looking up from his inspection 
of the snake-holes, "here comes the old captain!" 

The captain approached, and stood for a moment con- 
templating us in silence. 40 

"I say, Parkman," he began, "look at Shaw there, 



28 THE OREGON TRAIL 

asleep under the cart, with the tar dripping off the hub of 
the wheel on his shoulder!" 

At this Shaw got up, with his eyes half opened, and 
feeling the part indicated, he found his hand glued fast to 
5 his red flannel shirt. 

"He'll look well when he gets among the squaws, won't 
he?" observed the captain, with a grin. 

He then crawled under the cart, and began to tell stories, 
of which his stock was inexhaustible. Yet every moment 

lo he would glance nervously at the horses. At last he 
jumped up in great excitement. " See that horse ! There 
— that fellow just walking over the hill ! By Jove ! he's 
off. It's your big horse, Shaw ; no it isn't, it's Jack's ! 
Jack! Jack! hallo. Jack!" Jack, thus invoked, jumped 

15 up and stared vacantly at us. 

"Go and catch your horse, if you don't want to lose 
him !" roared the captain. 

Jack instantly set off at a run through the grass, his 
broad pantaloons flapping about his feet. The captain 

20 gazed anxiously till he saw that the horse was caught; 
then he sat down, with a countenance of thoughtfulness 
and care. 

"I tell you what it is," he said, "this will never do at 
all. We shall lose every horse in the band some day or 

25 other, and then a pretty plight we should be in ! Now I 
am convinced that the only way for us is to have every 
man in the camp stand horse-guard in rotation whenever 
we stop. Supposing a hundred Pawnees should jump up 
out of that ravine, all yelling and flapping their buffalo 

30 robes, in the way they do ? Why, in two minutes not a 
hoof would be in sight." We reminded the captain that a 
hundred Pawnees would probably demolish the horse- 
guard, if he were to resist their depredations. 

"At any rate," pursued the captain, evading the point, 

35 "our whole system is wrong; I'm convinced of it; it is 
totally unmilitary. Why, the way we travel, strung out 
over the prairie for a mile, an enemy might attack the 
foremost men, and cut them off before the rest could 
come up." 

40 "We are not in an enemy's country yet," said Shaw; 
"when we are, we'll travel together." 



'^JUMPING OFF^^ 29 

"Then/* said the captain, "we might be attacked in 
camp. We've no sentinels; we camp in disorder; no 
precautions at all to guard against surprise. My own 
convictions are that we ought to camp in a hollow square, 
with the fires in the center; and have sentinels, and as 
regular password appointed for every night. Besides, 
there should be vedettes, riding in advance, to find a place 
for the camp and give warning of an enemy. These are 
my convictions. I don't want to dictate to any man. I 
give advice to the best of my Judgment, that's all; and lo 
then let people do as they please." 

We intimated that perhaps it would be as well to post- 
pone such burdensome precautions until there should be 
some actual need of them; but he shook his head dubi- 
ously. The captain's sense of military propriety had been 15 
severely shocked by what he considered the irregular pro- 
ceedings of the party; and this was not the first time he 
had expressed himself upon the subject. But his convic- 
tions seldom produced any practical results. In the 
present case, he contented himself, as usual, with enlarg- 20 
ing on the importance of his suggestions, and wondering 
that they were not adopted. But his plan of sending out 
vedettes seemed particularly dear to him; and as no one 
else was disposed to second his views on this point, he took 
it into his head to ride forward that afternoon, himself. 25 

"Come, Parkman," said he, "will you go with me?" 

We set out together, and rode a mile or two in advance. 
The captain, in the course of twenty years' service in the 
British army, had seen something of life; one extensive 
side of it, at least; he had enjoyed the best opportunities 30 
for studying; and being naturally a pleasant fellow, he 
was a very entertaining companion. He cracked jokes 
and told stories for an hour or two; until, looking back, 
we saw the prairie behind us stretching away to the hori- 
zon, without a horseman or a wagon in sight. 35 

"Now," said the captain, "I think the vedettes had 
better stop till the main body comes up." 

I was of the same opinion. There was a thick growth 
of woods just before us, with a stream running through 
them. Having crossed this, we found on the other side a 40 
fine level meadow, half encircled by the trees; and fasten- 



30 THE OREGON TRAIL 

ing our horses to some bushes, we sat down on the grass; 
while, with an old stump of a tree for a target, I began to 
display the superiority of the renowned rifle of the back- 
woods over the foreign innovation borne by the captain. 
5 At length voices could be heard in the distance behind 
the trees. 

"There they come!" said the captain: "let's go and 
see how they get through the creek." 

We mounted and rode to the bank of the stream, where 

lothe trail crossed it. It ran in a deep hollow, full of trees; 
as we looked down, we saw a confused crowd of horse- 
men riding through the water; and among the dingy 
habiliments of our party glittered the uniforms of four 
dragoons. 

15 Shaw came whipping his horse up the bank, in advance 
of the rest, with,a somewhat indignant countenance. The 
first word he spoke was a blessing fervently invoked on 
the head of R., who was riding, with a crestfallen air, in 
the rear. Thanks to the ingenious devices of the gentle- 

20 man, we had missed the track entirely, and wandered, not 
toward the Platte, but to the village of the Iowa Indians. 
This we learned from the dragoons, who had lately de- 
serted from Fort Leavenworth. They told us that our 
best plan now was to keep to the northward until we 

25 should strike the trail formed by several parties of Oregon 
emigrants, who had that season set out from St. Joseph's 
in Missouri. 

In extremely bad temper, we encamped on this ill- 
starred spot; while the deserters, whose case admitted of 

30 no delay, rode rapidly forward. On the day following, 
striking the St. Joseph's trail, we turned our horses' heads 
toward Fort Laramie, then about seven hundred miles 
to the westward. 



CHAPTER V 



THE BIG BLUE 



The great medley of Oregon and California emigrants, 
at their camps around Independence, had heard reports 
that several additional parties were on the point of setting 
out from St. Joseph farther to the northward. The pre- 
vailing impression was that these were Mormons, ° twenty- 5 
three hundred in number; and a great alarm was excited 
in consequence. The people of Illinois and Missouri, who 
composed by far the greater part of the emigrants, have 
never been on the best terms with the "Latter Day Saints" ; 
and it is notorious throughout the country how much blood lo 
has been spilt in their feuds, even far within the limits of 
the settlements. No one could predict what would be the 
result, when large armed bodies of these fanatics should 
encounter the most impetuous and reckless of their old 
enemies on the broad prairie, far beyond the reach of law is 
or 'military force. The women and children at Independence 
raised a great outcry; the men themselves were seriously 
alarmed; and, as I learned, they sent to Colonel Kearny, 
requesting an escort of dragoons as far as the Platte. This 
was refused; and as the sequel proved, there was no occa- 20 
sion for it. The St. Joseph emigrants were as good Chris- 
tians and as zealous Mormon-haters as the rest; and the 
very few families of the Saints who passed out this season by 
the route of the Platte remained behind until the great tide 
of emigration had gone by ; standing in quite as much 25 
awe of the " gentiles "° as the latter did of them. 

We were now, as I before mentioned, upon this St. 
Joseph's trail. It was evident, by the traces, that large 
parties were a few days in advance of us; and as we too 
supposed them to be Mormons, we had some apprehen- 30 
sion of interruption. 

The journey was somewhat monotonous. One day we 
rode on for hours, without seeing a tree or a bush; before, 

31 



32 THE OREGON TRAIL 

behind, and on either side, stretched the vast expanse, 
rolling in a succession of graceful swells, covered with the 
unbroken carpet of fresh green grass. Here and there a 
crow, or a raven, or a turkey-buzzard, relieved the uni- 

5 formity. 

"What shall we do to-night for wood and water?" 
we began to ask of each other; for the sun was within an 
hour of setting. At length a dark green speck appeared, 
far off on the right; it was the top of a tree, peering over 

loa swell of the prairie; and leaving the trail, we made all 
haste toward it. It proved to be the vanguard of a cluster 
of bushes and low trees, that surrounded some pools of 
water in an extensive hollow; so we encamped on the 
rising ground near it. 

15 Shaw and I were sitting in the tent, when Deslauriers 
thrust his brown face and old felt hat into the opening, 
and dilating his eyes to their utmost extent, announced 
supper. There were the tin cups and the iron spoons, 
arranged in military order on the grass, and the coffee-pot 

20 predominant in the midst. The meal was soon dispatched ; 
but Henry Chatillon still sat cross-legged, dallying with the 
remnant of his coffee, the beverage in universal use upon 
the prairie, and an especial favorite with him. He pre- 
ferred it in its virgin flavor, unimpaired by sugar or cream ; 

25 and on the present occasion it met his entire approyal, 
being exceedingly strong, or, as he expressed it, "right 
black." 

It was a rich and gorgeous sunset — an American sunset ; 
and the ruddy glow of the sky was reflected from some 

30 extensive pools of water among the shadowy copses m 
the meadow below. 

"I must have a bath to-night," said Shaw. "How is 
it, Deslauriers? Any chance for a swim down here?" 
"Ah! I cannot tell; just as you please, monsieur," 

35 replied Deslauriers, shrugging his shoulders, perplexed by 
his ignorance of English, and extremely anxious to conform 
in all respects to the opinion and wishes of his bourgeois. 

"Look at his moccasin," said I. "It has evidently 
been lately immersed in a profound abyss of black mud." 

40 "Come," said Shaw; "at any rate we can see for our- 
selves." 



THE ''BIG BLUE^' 33 

We set out together; and as we approached the bushes, 
which were at some distance, we found the ground becom- 
ing rather treacherous. We could only get along by step- 
ping upon large clumps of tall rank grass, with fathomless 
gulfs between, like innumerable little quaking islands in 5 
an ocean of mud, where a false step would have involved 
our boots in a catastrophe like that which had befallen 
Deslauriers' moccasins. The thing looked desperate; we 
separated, so as to search in different directions, Shaw 
going off to the right, while I kept straight forward. At 10 
last I came to the edge of the bushes : they were young 
water-willows, covered with their caterpillar-like blossoms, 
but intervening between them and the last grass clump 
was a black and deep slough, over which, by a vigorous 
exertion, I contrived to jump. Then I shouldered my way 15 
through the willows, tramping them down by main force, 
till I came to a wide stream of water, three inches deep, 
languidly creeping along over a bottom of sleek mud. My 
arrival produced a great commotion. A huge green bull- 
frog uttered an indignant croak, and jumped off the bank 20 
with a loud splash: his webbed feet twinkled above the 
surface, as he jerked them energetically upward, and I 
could see him ensconcing himself in the unresisting slime 
at the bottom, whence several large air bubbles struggled 
lazily to the top. Some little spotted frogs instantly fol- 25 
lowed the patriarch's example; and then three turtles, not 
larger than a dollar, tumbled themselves off a broad "lily 
pad," where they had been reposing. At the same time a 
snake, gayiy striped with black and yellow, glided out 
from the bank, and writhed across to the other side ; and 30 
a small stagnant pool into which my foot had inadvertently 
pushed a stone was instantly alive with a congregation of 
black tadpoles. 

"Any chance for a bath, where you are?" called out 
Shaw, from a distance. 35 

The answer was not encouraging. I retreated through 
the willows, and rejoining my companion, we proceeded 
to push our researches in company. Not far on the right, 
a rising ground, covered with trees and bushes, seemed 
to sink down abruptly to the water, and give hope of 40 
better success; so toward this we directed our steps. 

D 



34 THE OREGON TRAIL 



When we reached the place we found it no easy matter 
to get along between the hill and the water, impeded as 
we were by a growth of stiff, obstinate young birch trees, 
laced together by grape-vines. In the twilight, we now 
5 and then, to support ourselves, snatched at the touch-me- 
not stem of some ancient sweet-brier. Shaw, who was in 
advance, suddenly uttered a somewhat emphatic monosyl- 
lable; and looking up I saw him with one hand grasping 
a sapling, and one foot immersed in the water, from which 

lo he had forgotten to withdraw it, his whole attention being 
engaged in contemplating the movements of a water- 
snake, about five feet long, curiously checkered with black 
and green, who was deliberately swimming across the pool. 
There being no stick or stone at hand to pelt him with, we 

15 looked at him for a time in silent disgust; and then pushed 
forward. Our perseverance was at last rewarded; for 
several rods farther on, we emerged upon a little level 
grassy nook among the brushwood, and b}'' an extraordi- 
nary dispensation of fortune, the weeds and floating sticks, 

20 which elsewhere covered the pool, seemed to have drawn 
apart; and left a few yards of clear water Just in front of this 
favored spot. We sounded it with a stick; it was four 
feet deep; we lifted a specimen in our closed hands; it 
seemed reasonably transparent, so we decided that the 

25 time for action was arrived. But our ablutions were sud- 
denly interrupted by ten thousand punctures, like poisoned 
needles, and the humming of myriads of overgrown mos- 
quitoes, rising in all directions from their native mud and 
slime and swarming to the feast. We were fain to beat a 

30 retreat with all possible speed. 

We made toward the tents, much refreshed by the bath, 
which the heat of the weather, joined to our prejudices, 
had rendered very desirable. 

"What's the matter with the captain? Look at him!" 

35 said Shaw. The captain stood alone on the prairie, swing- 
ing his hat violently around his head, and lifting first one 
foot and then the other, without moving from the spot. 
First he looked down to the ground with an air of supreme 
abhorrence; then he gazed upward with a perplexed and 

40 indignant countenance, as if trying to trace the flight of 
an unseen enemy. We called to know what was the mat- 



THE "BIG BLUE^^ 35 

ter; but he replied only by execrations directed against 
some unknown object. We approached, when our ears 
were saluted by a droning sound, as if twenty bee-hives 
had been overturned at once. The air above was full of 
large black insects, in a state of great commotion, and 5 
multitudes were flying about just above the tops of the grass 
blades. 

" Don't be afraid," called the captain, observing us recoil. 
"The brutes won't sting." 

At this I knocked one down with my hat, and discovered lo 
him to be no other than a "dor-bug"; and looking closer, 
we found the ground thickly perforated with their holes. 

We took a hasty leave of this flourishing colony, and 
walking up the rising ground to the tents, found Deslauriers' 
fire still glowing brightly. We sat down around it, and 15 
Shaw began to expatiate on the admirable facilities for 
bathing that we had discovered, and recommended the 
captain by all means to go down there before breakfast 
in the morning. The captain was in the act of remarking 
that he couldn't have believed it possible, when he sud- 20 
denly interrupted himself, and clapped his hand to his 
cheek, exclaiming that "those infernal humbugs were at 
him again." In fact, we began to hear sounds as if bullets 
were humming over our heads. In a moment some- 
thing rapped me sharply on the forehead, then upon the 25 
neck, and immediately I felt an indefinite number of sharp 
wiry claws in active motion, as if their owner were bent on 
pushing his explorations farther. I seized him, and dropped 
him into the fire. Our party speedily broke up, and we 
adjourned to our respective tents, where, closing the open- 30 
ing fast, we hoped to be exempt from invasion. But all 
precaution was fruitless. The dor-bugs hummed through 
the tent, and marched over our faces until daylight; when, 
opening our blankets, we found several dozen clinging there 
with the utmost tenacity. The first object that met our 35 
eyes in the morning was Deslauriers, who seemed to be 
apostrophizing his frying pan, which he held by the handle 
at arm's length. It appeared that he had left it at night 
by the fire ; and the bottom was now covered with dor-bugs, 
firmly imbedded. Multitudes besides, curiously parched and 40 
shriveled, lay scattered among the ashes. 



36 THE OREGON TRAIL 

The horses and mules were turned loose to feed. We 
had just taken our seats at breakfast, or rather reclined in 
the classic mode, when an exclamation from Henry Cha- 
tillon, and a shout of alarm from the captain, gave warn- 
5 ing of some casualty, and looking up, we saw the whole 
band of animals, twenty-three in number, filing off for 
the settlements, the incorrigible Pontiac at their head. 
Jumping along with hobblecl feet, at a gait much more 
rapid than graceful. Three or four of us ran to cut them 

lo off, dashing as best we might through the tall grass, which 
was glittering with myriads of dewdrops. After a race 
of a mile or more, Shaw caught a horse. Tying the trail- 
rope by way of bridle round the animal's jaw, and leaping 
upon his back, he got in advance of the remaining fugi- 

15 tives, while we, soon bringing them together, drove them 
in a crowd up to the tents, where each man caught and 
saddled his own. Then were heard lamentations and 
curses; for half the horses had broken their hobbles, and 
many were seriously galled by attempting to run in fetters. 

20 It was late that morning before we were on the march; 
and earl}^ in the afternoon we were compelled to encamp, 
for a thunder-gust came up and suddenly enveloped us in 
whirling sheets of rain. With much ado, we pitched our 
tents amid the tempest, and all night long the thunder 

25 bellowed and growled over our heads. In the morning, 
light peaceful showers succeeded the cataracts of rain, that 
had been drenching us through the canvas of our tents. 
About noon, when there were some treacherous indications 
of fair weather, we got in motion again. 

30 Not a breath of air stirred over the free and open prairie : 
the clouds were like light piles of cotton; and where the 
blue sky was visible, it wore a hazy and languid aspect. 
The sun beat down upon us with a sultry penetrating heat 
almost insupportable, and as our party crept slowly along 

35 over the interminable level, the horses hung their heads as 
they waded fetlock deep through the mud, and the men 
slouched into the easiest position upon the saddle. At last, 
toward evening, the old familiar black heads of thunder- 
clouds rose fast above the horizon, and the same deep mut- 

4otering of distant thunder that had become the ordinary 
accompaniment of our afternoon's journey began to roll 



THE ^'BIG BLUE'^ 37 

hoarsely over the prairie. Only a few minutes elapsed 
before the whole sky was densely shrouded, and the prairie 
and some clusters of woods in front assumed a purple hue 
beneath the inky shadows. Suddenly from the densest 
fold of the cloud the flash leaped out, quivering again and 5 
again down to the edge of the prairie; and at the same 
instant came the sharp burst and the long rolling peal of 
the thunder. A cool wind, filled with the smell of rain, just 
then overtook us, leveling the tall grass by the side of the 
path. lo 

''Come on; we must ride for it!" shouted Shaw, rush- 
ing past at full speed, his led horse snorting at his side. 
The whole party broke into full gallop, and made for the 
trees in front. Passing these, we found beyond them a 
meadow which they half inclosed. We rode pell-mell is 
upon the ground, leaped from horseback, tore off our sad- 
dles, and in a moment each man was kneeling at his 
horse's feet. The hobbles were adjusted and the animals 
turned loose; then, as the wagons came wheeling rapidly 
to the spot, we seized upon the tent-poles, and just as the 20 
storm broke, we were prepared to receive it. It came 
upon us almost with the darkness of night ; the trees, 
which were close at hand, were completely shrouded by 
the roaring torrents of rain. 

We were sitting in the tent, when Deslauriers, with his 25 
broad felt hat hanging about his ears, and his shoulders 
glistening with rain, thrust in his head. 

"Voulez-vous du souper, tout de suite? I can make a 
fire, SGUfi la charette° — I b'lieve so — I try." 

"Never mind supper, man; come in out of the rain." 30 

Deslauriers accordingly crouched in the entrance, for 
modesty would not permit him to intrude farther. 

Our tent was none of the best defense against such a 
cataract. The rain could not enter bodily, but it beat 
through the canvas in a fine drizzle, that wetted us just as 35 
effectually. We sat upon our saddles with faces of the 
utmost surliness, while the water dropped from the vizors 
of our caps, and trickled down our cheeks. My india- 
rubber cloak conducted twenty little rapid streamlets to 
the ground; and Shaw's blanket-coat was saturated like a 40 
sponge. But what most concerned us was the sight of 



38 THE OREGON TRAIL 

several puddles of water rapidly accumulating; one in 
particular, that was gathering around the tent-pole, threat- 
ened to overspread the whole area within the tent, hold- 
ing forth but an indifferent promise of a comfortable 
5 night's rest. Toward sunset, however, the storm ceased 
as suddenly as it began. A bright streak of clear red sky 
appeared above the western verge of the prairie, the hori- 
zontal rays of the sinking sun streamed through it and 
glittered in a thousand prismatic colors upon the dripping 

lo groves and the prostrate grass. The pools in the tent 
dwindled and sunk into the saturated soil. 

But all our hopes were delusive. Scarcely had night 
set in, when the tumult broke forth anew. The thunder 
here is not like the tame thunder of the Atlantic coast. 

15 Bursting with a terrific crash directly above our heads, it 
roared over the boundless waste of prairie, seeming to 
roll around the whole circle of the firmament with a peculiar 
and awful reverberation. The lightning flashed all night, 
playing with its livid glare upon the neighboring trees, 

20 revealing the vast expanse of the plain, and then leaving us 
shut in as by a palpable wall of darkness. 

It did not disturb us much. Now and then a peal awak- 
ened us, and made us conscious of the electric battle that 
was raging, and of the floods that dashed upon the stanch 

25 canvas over our heads. We lay upon india-rubber cloths, 
placed between our blankets and the soil. For a while they 
excluded the water to admiration; but when at length it 
accumulated and began to run over the edges, they served 
equally well to retain it, so that toward the end of the night 

30 we were unconsciously reposing in small pools of rain. 

On finally awaking in the morning the prospect was not 
a cheerful one. The rain no longer poured in torrents; 
but it pattered with a quiet pertinacity upon the strained 
and saturated canvas. We disengaged ourselves from 

35 our blankets, every fiber of which glistened with little bead- 
like drops of water, and looked out in vain hope of dis- 
covering some token of fair weather. The clouds, in lead- 
colored volumes, rested upon the dismal verge of the prairie, 
or hung sluggishly overhead, while the earth wore an aspect 

40 no more attractive than the heavens, exhibiting nothing 
but pools of water, grass beaten down, and mud well 



THE ''BIG BLUE^^ 39 



trampled by our mules and horses. Our companions' 
tent, with an air of forlorn and passive misery, and their 
wagons in like manner, drenched and woe-begone, stood 
not far off. The captain was just returning from his 
morning's inspection of the horses. He stalked through 5 
the mist and rain, with his plaid around his shoulders; 
his little pipe, dingy as an antiquarian relic, projecting 
from beneath his mustache, and his brother Jack at his 
heels. 

"Good-morning, captain." 10 

"Good-morning to your honors," said the captain, 
affecting the Hibernian accent; but at that instant, as he 
stooped to enter the tent, he tripped upon the cords at the 
entrance, and pitched forward against the guns which 
were strapped around the pole in the center. 15 

"You are nice men, you are!" said he, after an ejacu- 
lation not necessary to be recorded, "to set a man- trap 
before your door every morning to catch your visitors." 

Then he sat down upon Henry Chatillon's saddle. We 
tossed a piece of buffalo robe to Jack, who was looking 20 
about in some embarrassment. He spread it on the ground, 
and took his seat, with a stolid countenance, at his brother's 
side. 

"Exhilarating weather, captain!" 

"Oh, delightful, delightful!" replied the captain. "1 25 
knew it would be so; so much for starting yesterday at 
noon! I knew how it would turn out; and I said so at 
the time." 

"You said just the contrary to us. We were in no 
hurry, and only moved because you insisted on it." 30 

"Gentlemen," said the captain, taking his pipe from 
his mouth with an air of extreme gravity, "it was no plan 
of mine. There is a man among us who is determined to 
have everything his own way. You may express your 
opinion; but don't expect him to listen. You may be as 35 
reasonable as you like; oh, it all goes for nothing f That 
man is resolved to rule the roost, and he'll set his face against 
any plan that he didn't think of himself." 

The captain puffed for a while at his pipe, as if meditat- 
ing upon his grievances; then he began again: 40 

"For twenty years I have been in the British army; 



40 THE OREGON TRAIL 

and in all that time I never had half so much dissension, 
and quarreling, and nonsense, as since I have been on 
this cursed prairie. He's the most uncomfortable man I 
ever met." 
5 "Yes," said Jack; "and don't you know, Bill, how he 
drank up all the coffee last night, and put the rest by for 
himself till the morning!" 

"He pretends to know everj^thing," resumed the captain; 
" nobody must give orders but him ! It's, oh ! we must 

lo do this; and, oh! we must do that; and the tent must be 
pitched here, and the horses must be picketed there; for 
nobody knows as well as he does." 

We were a little surprised at this disclosure of domestic 
dissensions among our allies, for though we knew of their 

15 existence, we were not aware of their extent. The per- 
secuted captain seeming wholly at a loss as to the course 
of conduct that he should pursue, we recommended him 
to adopt prompt and energetic measures; but all his mili- 
tary experience had failed to teach him the indispensable 

20 lesson to be "hard," when the emergency requires it. 

" For twenty years," he repeated, " I have been in the 
British army,' aiad in that time I have been intimately 
acquainted with some two hundred officers, young and old, 
and I never yet quarreled with any man. Oh, 'anything 

25 for a quiet life !' that's my maxim." 

We intimated that the prairie was hardly the place to 
enjoy a quiet life, but that, in the present circumstances, 
the best thing he could do toward securing his wished-for 
tranquillity, was immediately to put a period to the nui- 

30 sanre that disturbed it. But again the captain's easy 
good-nature recoiled from the task. The somewhat vigor- 
ous measures necessary to gain the desired result were 
utterly repugnant to him; he preferred to pocket his griev- 
ances, still retaining the privilege of grumbling about 

35 them. "Oh, anything for a quiet life!" he said again, 
circling back to his favorite maxim. 

But to fflance at the previous history of our transatlantic 
confederates. The captain had .sold his commission, and 
was living in bachelor ease and dignity in his paternal halls, 

40 near Dublin. ° He hunted, fished, rode steeple-chases, 
ran races, and talked of his former exploits. He was 



THE ''BIG BLUE" 41 

surrounded with the trophies of his rod and gun; the walls 
were plentifully garnished, he told us, with moose-horns 
and deer-horns, bear-skins and fox-tails; for the captain's 
double-barreled rifle had seen service in Canada and 
Jamaica; he had killed salmon in Xova Scotia, and trout, 5 
by his own account, in all the streams of the three king- 
doms. But in an evil hour a seductive stranger came 
from London; no less a person than R., who, among 
other multitudinous wanderings, had once been upon the 
western prairies, and naturally enough was anxious to 10 
visit them again. The captain's imagination was inflamed 
by the pictures of a hunter's paradise that his guest held 
forth; he conceived an ambition to add to his other tro- 
phies the horns of a buffalo, and the claws of a grizzly 
bear; so he and R. struck a league to travel in company. 15 
Jack followed his brother, as a matter of course. Two 
weeks on board the Atlantic steamer brought them to 
Boston; in two weeks more of hard traveling they reached 
St. Louis, from which a ride of six days carried them to 
the frontier; and here we found them, in the full tide of 20 
preparation for their journey. 

We had been throughout on terms of intimacy with the 
captain, but R., the motive power of our companions' 
branch of the expedition, was scarcely known to us. His 
voice, indeed, might be heard incessantly; but at camp he 25 
remained chiefly within the tent, and on the road he either 
rode by himself, or else remained in close conversation 
with his friend Wright, the muleteer. As the captain left 
the tent that morning, I observed R. standing b}^ the fire, 
and having nothing else to do, I determined to ascertain, if 30 
possible, what manner of man he was. He had a book 
under his arm, but just at present he was engrossed in 
actively superintending the operations of Sorel, the hunter, 
who was cooking some corn-bread over the coals for break- 
fast. R. was a well-formed and rather good-looking man, 35 
some thirty years old; considerably younger than the 
captain. He wore a beard and mustache of the oakum 
complexion, and his attire was altogether more elegant 
than one ordinarily sees on the prairie. He wore his cap 
on one side of his head; his checked shirt, open in front, 40 
was in very neat order, considering the circumstances, and 



42 THE OREGON TRAIL 



his blue pantaloons, of the John Bull cut, might once have 
figured in Bond street. ° 

" Turn over that cake, man ! turn it over, quick ! Don't 
you see it burning?" 
S "It ain't half done," growled Sorel, in the amiable tone 
of a whipped bull-dog. 

"It is. Turn it over, I tell you!" 

Sorel, a strong, sullen-looking Canadian, who, from 
having spent his life among the wildest and most remote 
loof the Indian tribes, had imbibed much of their dark, 
vindictive spirit, looked ferociously up, as if he longed to 
leap upon his bourgeois and throttle him; but he obeyed 
the order, coming from so experienced an artist. 

"It was a good idea of yours," said I, seating myself 
15 on the tongue of a wagon, "to bring Indian meal with 
you." 

"Yes, yes," said R., "it's good bread for the prairie — 
good bread for the prairie. I tell you that's burning again." 

Here he stooped down, and unsheathing the silver- 
20 mounted hunting-knife in his belt, began to perform the 
part of cook himself; at the same time requesting me to 
hold for a moment the book under his arm, which in- 
terfered with the exercise of these important functions. 
I opened it; it was Macaulay's Lays°; and I made some 
25 remark, expressing my admiration of the work. 

" Yes, yes ; a pretty good thing. Macaulay can do 
better than that, though. I know him very well. I have 
traveled with him. Where was it we first met — at Da- 
mascus°? No, no; it was in Italy." 
30 "So," said I, "you have been over the same ground with 
your countryman, the author of 'Eothen'°? There has 
been some discussion in America as to who he is. I have 
heard Milne's name mentioned." 

"Milne's? Oh, no, no, no; not at all. It was King- 
30 lake; Kinglake's the man. I know him very well; that 
is, I have seen him." 

Here Jack C, who stood by, interposed a remark (a 
thing not common with him), observing that he thought 
the weather would become fair before twelve o'clock. 
40 " It's going to rain all day," said R., "and clear up in the 
middle of the night." 



43 



Just then the clouds began to dissipate in a very un- 
equivocal manner; but Jack, not caring to defend his 
point against so authoritative a declaration, walked away 
whistling, and we resumed our conversation. 

'' Borrow, ° the author of 'The Bible in Spain,' I presume 5 
you know him, too?" 

'•'Oh, certainly; I know all those men. By the way, 
they told me that one of your American writers, Judge 
Story, ° had died lately. I edited some of his works in 
London; not without faults, though." lo 

Here followed an erudite commentary on certain points 
of law, in which he particularly animadverted on the 
errors into which he considered that the judge had been 
betrayed. At length, having touched successively on an 
infinite variety of topics, I found that I had the happiness is 
of discovering a man equally competent to enlighten me 
upon them all, equally an authority on matters of science 
or literature, philosophy or fashion. The part I bore in 
the conversation was by no means a prominent one: it 
was only necessary to set him going, and when he had 20 
run long enough upon one topic, to divert him to another 
and lead him on to pour out his heaps of treasure in suc- 
cession. 

"What has that fellow been saying to you?" said Shaw, 
as I returned to the tent. " I have heard nothing but his 25 
talking for the last half-hour." 

R. had none of the peculiar traits of the ordinary " British 
snob"°; his absurdities were all his own, belonging to no 
particular nation or clime. He was possessed with an active 
devil that had driven him over land and sea, to no great pur- 30 
pose, as it seemed ; for although he had the usual complement 
of eyes and ears, the avenues between these organs and his 
brain appeared remarkably narrow and untrodden. His 
energy was much more conspicuous than his wisdom; 
but his predominant characteristic was a magnanimous am- 35 
bition to exercise on all occasions an awful rule and su- 
premacy, and this propensity equally displayed itself, as the 
reader will have observed, whether the matter in question 
was the baking of a hoe-cake or a point of international 
law. When such diverse elements as he and the easy- 40 
tempered captain came in contact, no wonder some com- 



44 THE OREGON TRAIL 



motion ensued ; R. rode rough-shod, from morning till 
night, over his military ally. 

At noon the sky was clear and we set out, trailing through 
mud and slime six inches deep. That night we were spared 
5 the customary infliction of the shower bath. 

On the next afternoon we were moving slowly along, 
not far from a patch of woods which lay on the right. Jack 
C. rode a little in advance; 

The livelong day he had not spoke; 

ID when suddenly he faced about, pointed to the woods, and 
roared out to his brother: 
"O Bill, here's a cow!" 

The captain instantly galloped forward, and he and Jack 
made a vain attempt to capture the prize; but the cow, 

15 with a well-grounded distrust of their intentions, took 
refuge among the trees. R. joined them, and they soon 
drove her out. We watched their evolutions as they 
galloped around her, trying in vain to noose her with their 
trail-ropes, which they had converted into lariettes° for the 

20 occasion. At length they resorted to milder measures, 
and the cow was driven along with the party. Soon 
after the usual thunderstorm came up, the wind blowing 
with such fury that the streams of rain flew almost hori- 
zontally along the prairie, roaring like a cataract. The 

25 horses turned tail to the storm, and stood hanging their 
heads, bearing the infliction with an air of meekness and 
resignation ; while we drew our heads between our shoulders, 
and crouched forward, so as to make our backs serve as 
a penthouse" for the rest of our persons. Meanwhile the 

30 cow, taking advantage of the tumult, ran off", to the great 
discomfiture of the captain, who seemed to consider her 
as his own especial prize, since she had been discovered by 
Jack. In defiance of the storm, he pulled his cap tight 
over his brows, jerked a huge buff"alo pistol from his holster, 

35 and set out at full speed after her. This was the last we 
saw of them for some time, the mist and rain making an 
impenetrable veil ; but at length we heard the captain's 
shout, and saw him looming through the tempest, the 
picture of a Hibernian cavalier,® with his cocked pistol held 



THE ''BIG BLUE^^ 45 



aioft for safety's sake, and a countenance of anxiety and 
excitement. The cow trotted before him, but exhibited 
evident signs of an intention to run off again, and the captain 
was roaring to us to head her. But the rain had got in 
l)ehind our coat collars, and was traveling over our necks 5 
in numerous little streamlets, and being afraid to move 
our heads, for fear of admitting more, we sat stiff and im- 
movable, looking at the captain askance, and laughing 
at his frantic movements. At last the cow made a sudden 
plunge and ran off; the captain grasped his pistol firmly, lo 
spurred his horse, and galloped after, with evident designs 
of mischief. In a moment we heard the faint report, 
deadened by the rain, and then the conqueror and his victim 
reappeared, the latter shot through the body, and quite 
helpless. Not long after the storm moderated, and we 15 
advanced again. The cow walked painfully along under 
the charge of Jack, to whom the captain had committed her, 
while he himself rode forward in his old capacity of vedette. 
We were approaching a long line of trees, that followed a 
stream stretching across our path, far in front, when we 20 
beheld the vedette galloping toward us, apparently much 
excited, but with a broad grin on his face. 

''•Let that cow drop behind !" he shouted to us; "here's 
her owners !" 

And in fact, as we approached the line of trees, a large 25 
white object, like a tent, was visible behind them. On 
approaching, however, we found, instead of the expected 
Mormon camp, nothing but the lonely prairie, and a large 
white rock standing by the path. The cow therefore 
resumed her place in our procession. She walked on until 30 
we encamped, when R. firmly approaching with his enor- 
mous English double-barreled rifle, calmly and deliberately 
took aim at her heart, and discharged into it first one bullet 
and then the other. She was then butchered on the most 
approved principles of woodcraft, and furnished a very 35 
welcome item to our somewhat limited bill of fare. 

In a day or two more we reached the river called the 
Big Blue. By titles equally elegant, almost all the streams 
of this region are designated. We had struggled through 
ditches and little brooks all that morning; but on travers- 40 
ing the dense woods that lined the banks of the Blue, we 



46 THE OREGON TRAIL 

found that more formidable difficulties awaited us, for 
the stream, swollen by the rains, was wide, deep, and rapid. 
No sooner were we on the spot than R. had flung off 
his clothes, and was swimming across, or splashing through 
5 the shallows, with the end of a rope between his teeth." 
We all looked on in admiration, wondering what might 
be the design of this energetic preparation; but soon we 
heard him shouting: "Give that rope a turn round that 
stump! You, Sorel: do you hear? Look sharp now, 

lo Boisverd ! Come over to this side, some of 3^ou, and help 
me!" The men to whom these orders were directed paid 
not the least attention to them, though they were poured 
out without pause or intermission. Henry Chatillon di- 
rected the work, and it proceeded quietly and rapidly. 

15 R.'s sharp brattling° voice might have been heard inces- 
santly; and he was leaping about with the utmost activity, 
multiplying himself, after the manner of great commanders, 
as if his universal presence and supervision were of the last 
necessity. His commands were rather amusinglj'- incon- 

20 sistent ; for when he saw that the men would not do as he 
told them, he wisely accommodated himself to circum- 
stances, and with the utmost vehemence ordered them to do 
precisely that which they were at the time engaged upon, 
no doubt recollecting the story of Mahomet and the re- 

25 fractory mountain. ° Shaw smiled significantly; R. ob- 
served it, and, approaching with a countenance of lofty 
indignation, began to vapor a little, but was instantly 
reduced to silence. 

The raft was at length complete. We piled our goods 

30 upon it, with the exception of our guns, which each man 
chose to retain in his own keeping. Sorel, Boisverd, 
Wright, and Deslauriers took their stations at the four 
corners, to hold it together, and swim across with it; and 
in a moment more, all our earthly possessions were floating 

35 on the turbid waters of the Big Blue. We sat on the bank, 
anxiously watching the result, until we saw the raft safe 
landed in a little cove far down on the opposite bank. The 
empty wagons were easily passed across; and then each 
man mounting a horse, we rode through the stream, the 

40 stray animals following of their own accord. 



CHAPTER VI 

THE PLATTE AND THE DESERT 

We were now arrived at the close of our solitary Journey- 
ings along the St. Joseph trail. On the evening of the 
twenty-third of May we encamped near its junction with 
the old legitimate trail ° of the Oregon emigrants. We 
had ridden long that afternoon, trying in vain to find 5 
wood and water, until at length we saw the sunset sky 
reflected from a pool encircled by bushes and a rock or 
two. The water lay in the bottom of a hollow, the smooth 
prairie gracefully rising in oceanlike swells on every side. 
We pitched our tents by it; not however before the keen lo 
eye of Henry Chatillon had discerned some unusual object 
upon the faintly-defined outline of the distant swell. But 
in the moist, hazy atmosphere of the evening, nothing could 
be clearly distinguished. As we lay around the fire after 
supper, a low and distant sound, strange enough amid 15 
the loneliness of the prairie, reached our ears — peals of 
laughter, and the faint voices of men and women. For 
eight days we had not encountered a human being, and this 
singular warning of their vicinity had an eff"ect extremely 
wild and impressive. 20 

About dark a sallow-faced fellow descended the hill on 
horseback, and splashing through the pool rode up to 
the tents. He was enveloped in a huge cloak, and his 
broad felt hat was weeping about his ears with the driz- 
zling moisture of the evening. Another followed, a stout, 25 
square-built, intelligent-looking man, who announced 
himself as leader of an emigrant party encamped a mile 
in advance of us. xA.bout twenty wagons, he said, were 
with him; the rest of his party were on the other side of 
the Big Blue, waiting for a woman who was in the pains 30 
of child-birth, and quarreling meanwhile among themselves. 

These were the first emigrants that we had overtaken, 
47 



48 THE OREGON TRAIL 

although we had found abundant and melancholy traces 
of their progress throughout the whole course of the journey. 
Sometimes we passed the grave of one who had sickened 
and died on the way. The earth was usually torn up, and 
5 covered thickly with wolf-tracks. Some had escaped 
this violation. One morning a piece of plank, standing 
upright on the summit of a grassy hill, attracted our notice, 
and riding up to it we found the following words very 
roughly traced upon it, apparently by a red-hot piece of 
loiron: 

MARY ELLIS. 

DIED MAY 7th, 1845. 

Aged two months. 

Such tokens were of common occurrence. Nothing 

IS could speak more for the hardihood, or rather infatuation, 
of the adventurers, or the sufferings that await them upon 
the journey. 

We were late in breaking up our camp on the follow- 
ing morning, and scarcely had we ridden a mile when we 

2osaw, far in advance of us, drawn against the horizon, a 
line of objects stretching at regular intervals along the 
level edge of the prairie. An intervening swell soon hid 
them from sight, until, ascending it a quarter of an hour 
after, we saw close before us the emigrant caravan, with 

25 its heavy white wagons creeping on in their slow pro- 
cession, and a large drove of cattle following behind. Half 
a dozen yellow-visaged Missourians, mounted on horse- 
back, were cui'sing and shouting among them; their lank 
angular proportions enveloped in brown homespun, evi- 

30 dently cut and adjusted by the hands of a domestic female 
tailor. As we approached, they greeted us with the polished 
salutation: ''How are ye, boys? Are ye for Oregon or 
California ?"° 

As we pushed rapidly past the wagons, children's faces 

35 were thrust out from the white coverings to look at us; 
while the care-worn, thin-featured matron, or the buxom 
girl, seated in front, suspended the knitting on which most 
of them were engaged to stare at us with wondering curios- 
ity. By the side of each wagon stalked the proprietor, 

40 urging on his patient oxen, who shouldered heavily along, 



THE PLATTE AND THE DESERT 49 

inch by inch, on their interminable journey. It was 
easy to see that fear and dissension prevailed among them ; 
some of the men — but these, with one exception, were 
. bachelors — looked wistfully upon us as we rode lightly 
and swiftly past, and then impatiently at their own lum- 5 
bering wagons and heavy-gaited oxen. Others were 
unwilling to advance at all until the party they had left 
behind should have rejoined them. Many were murmur- 
ing against the leader they had chosen, and wished to 
depose him ; and this discontent was fomented by some 10 
ambitious spirits, who had hopes of succeeding in his place. 
The women were divided between regrets for the homes 
they had left and apprehension of the deserts and the 
savages before them. 

We soon left them far behind, and fondly hoped that 15 
we had taken a final leave; but unluckily our companions' 
wagon stuck so long in a deep muddy ditch that, before it 
was extricated, the van of the emigrant caravan appeared 
again, descending a ridge close at hand. Wagon after 
wagon plunged through the mud ; and as it was nearly 20 
noon, and the place promised shade and water, we saw 
with much gratification that they were resolved to en- 
camp. Soon the wagons were wheeled into a circle; the 
cattle were grazing over the meadow, and the men, with 
sour, sullen faces, were looking about for wood and water. 25 
They seemed to meet with but indiff"erent success. As 
we left the ground, I saw a tall slouching fellow with the 
nasal accent of ''down east," contemplating the contents 
of his tin cup, which he had just filled with water. 

"Look here, you," he said; "it's chock full of animals !" 30 

The cup, as he held it out, exhibited in fact an extraor- 
dinary variety and profusion of animal and vegetable 
life. 

Riding up the little hill and looking back on the meadow, 
we could easily see that all was not right in the camp of 35 
the emigrants. The men were crowded together, and an 
angry discussion seemed to be going forward. R. was 
missing from his wonted place in the line, and the captain 
told us that he had remained behind to get his horse shod 
by a blacksmith who was attached to the emigrant party. 40 
Something whispered in our ears that mischief was on foot; 



50 THE OREGON TRAIL 

we kept on, however, and coming soon to a stream of toler- 
able water, we stopped to rest and dine. Still the ab- 
sentee lingered behind. At last, at the distance of a mile, 
he and his horse suddenly appeared, sharply defined against 
5 the sky on the summit of a hill ; and close behind, a huge 
white object rose slowly into view. 

"What is that blockhead bringing with him now?" 
A moment dispelled the mystery. Slowly and solemnly, 
one behind the other, four long trains of oxen and four 

lo emigTant wagons rolled over the crest of the declivity 
and gravely descended, while R. rode in state in the van. 
It seems that, during the process of shoeing the horse, 
the smothered dissensions among the emigrants suddenly 
broke into open rupture. Some insisted on pushing for- 

15 ward, some on remaining where they were, and some on 
going back. Kearsley, their captain, threw up his com- 
mand in disgust. "And now, boys," said he, "if any of 
you are for going ahead, just you come along with me." 
Four wagons, with ten men, one woman, and one small 

20 child, made up the force of the "go-ahead" faction, and 
R., with his usual proclivity toward mischief, invited them 
to join our party. Fear of the Indians — for I can con- 
ceive of no other motive — must have induced him to 
court so burdensome an alliance. As may well be con- 

25 ceived, these repeated instances of high-handed dealing 
sufficiently exasperated us. In this case, indeed, the men 
who joined us were all that could be desired; rude indeed 
in manner, but frank, manly, and intelligent. To tell them 
we could not travel with them was of course out of the 

30 question. I merely reminded Kearsley that if his oxen 
could not keep up with our mules he must expect to 
be left behind, as we could not consent to be further de- 
layed on the journey; but he immediately replied, that 
his oxen "should keep up; and if they couldn't, why he 

35 allowed that he'd find out how to make 'em ! " Having 
availed myself of what satisfaction could be derived from 
giving R. to understand my opinion of his conduct, I re- 
turned to our side of the camp. 

On the next day, as it chanced, our English companions 

40 broke the axle-tree of their wagon, and down came the 
whole cumbrous machine lumbering into the bed of a brook I 



THE PLATTE AND THE DESERT 51 

Here was a day's work cut out for us. Meanwhile, our 
emigrant associates kept on their way, and so vigorously 
did they urge forward their powerful oxen that, with the 
broken axle-tree and other calamities, it was full a week 
before we overtook them ; when at length we discovered 5 
them, one afternoon, crawling quietly along the sandy 
brink of the Platte. But meanwhile various incidents 
occurred to ourselves. 

It was probable that at this stage of our journey the ' 
Pawnees would attempt to rob us. We began therefore lo 
to stand guard in turn, dividing the night into three watches, 
and appointing two men for each. Deslauriers and I held 
guard together. We did not march with military pre- 
cision to and fro before the tents; our discipline was by 
no means so stringent and rigid. We wrapped ourselves 15 
in our blankets, and sat down by the fire; and Deslauriers, 
combining his culinary functions with his duties as sentinel, 
employed himself in boiling the head of an antelope for 
our morning's repast. Yet we were models of vigilance 
in comparison with some of the party ; for the ordinary 20 
practice of the guard was to establish himself in the most 
comfortable posture he could; lay his rifle on the ground, 
and' enveloping his nose in the blanket, meditate on his 
mistress, or whatever subject best pleased him. This is 
all well enough when among Indians who do not habitually 25 
proceed further in their hostility than robbing travelers 
of their horses and mules, though, indeed, a Pawnee's for- 
bearance is not always to be trusted ; but in certain regions 
farther to the west, the guard must beware how he exposes 
his person to the light of the fire, lest perchance some keen- 30 
eyed skulking marksman should let fly a bullet or an arrow 
from amid the darkness. 

Among various tales that circulated around our camp 
fire was a rather curious one, told by Boisverd, and not 
inappropriate here. Boisverd was trapping with several 35 
companions on the skirts of the Blackfoot country. The 
man on guard, well knowing that it behooved him to put 
forth his utmost precaution, kept aloof from the firelight, 
and sat watching intently on all sides. At length he was 
aware of a dark, crouching figure, stealing noiselessly 40 
into the circle of the light. He hastily cocked his rifle, but 



52 THE OREGON TRAIL 

the sharp click of the lock caught the ear of Blackfoot, 
whose senses were all on the alert. Raising his arrow, 
already fitted to the string, he shot in the direction of the 
sound. So sure was his aim that he drove it through the 
5 throat of the unfortunate guard, and then, with a loud yell, 
bounded from the camp. 

As I looked at the partner of my watch, puffing and 
blowing over his fire, it occurred to me that he might not 
prove the most efficient auxiliary in time of trouble. 

lo "Deslauriers," said I, "would you run away if the Paw- 
nees should fire at us?" 

"Ah! oui, oui, monsieur°!" he replied very decisively. 
I did not doubt the fact, but was a little surprised at the 
frankness of the confession. 

15 At this instant a most whimsical variety of voices — 
barks, howls, yelps, and whines — all mingled as it were 
together, sounded from the prairie, not far off, as if a whole 
conclave of wolves of every age and sex were assembled 
there. Deslauriers looked up from his work with a laugh, 

20 and began to imitate this curious medley of sounds with 
a most ludicrous accuracy. At this they were repeated 
with redoubled emphasis, the musician being apparently 
indignant at the successful efforts of a rival. They all 
proceeded from the throat of one little wolf, not larger 

25 than a spaniel, seated by himself at some distance. He 
was of the species called the prairie wolf; a grim-visaged, 
but harmless little brute, whose worst propensity is creep- 
ing among horses and gnawing the ropes of rawhide by 
which they are picketed around the camp. But other 

30 beasts roam the prairies, far more formidable in aspect 
and in character. These are the large white and gray 
wolves, whose deep howl we heard at intervals from far 
and near. 

At last I fell into a doze, and, awakening from it, found 

35 Deslauriers fast asleep. Scandahzed by this breach of dis- 
cipline, I was about to stimulate his vigilance by stirring 
him with the stock of my rifle; but compassion prevail- 
ing, I determined to let him sleep awhile, and then to arouse 
him, and administer a suitable reproof for such a forget- 

40 fulness of duty. Now and then I walked the rounds among 
the silent horses, to see that all was right. The night 



THE PLATTE AND THE DESERT 53 



was chill, damp, and dark, the dank° grass bending under 
the icy dewdrops. At the distance of a rod or two the tents 
were invisible, and nothing could be seen but the obscure 
figures of the horses, deeply breathing, and restlessly start- 
ing as they slept, or still slowly champing° the grass. Far 5 
off, beyond the black outline of the prairie, there was a 
ruddy light, gradually increasing, like the glow of a con- 
flagration; until at length the broad disk of the moon, 
blood-red, and vastly magnified by the vapors, rose slowly 
upon the darkness, flecked by one or two little clouds, and lo 
as the light poured over the gloomy plain, a fierce and 
stern howl, close at hand, seemed to greet it as an un- 
welcome intruder. There was something impressive and 
awful in the place and the hour; for I and the beasts were 
all that had consciousness for many a league around. 15 

Some days elapsed, and brought us near the Platte. 
Two men on horseback approached us one morning, and 
we watched them with the curiosity and interest that, 
upon the solitude of the plains, such an encounter always 
excites. They were evidently whites, from their mode of 20 
riding, though, contrary to the usage of that region, neither 
of them carried a rifle. 

'^ Fools!" remarked Henry Chatillon, "to ride that way 
on the prairie; Pawnee find them — then they catch it!" 

Pawnee had found them, and they had come very near 25 
"catching it"; indeed, nothing saved them from trouble 
but the approach of our party. Shaw and I knew one of 
them; a man named Turner, whom we had seen at West- 
port. He and his companion belonged to an emigrant 
party encamped a few miles in advance, and had returned 3° 
to look for some stray oxen, leaving their rifles, with char- 
acteristic rashness or ignorance, behind them. Their 
neglect had nearly cost them dear ; for just before we came 
up, half a dozen Indians approached, and seeing them ap- 
parently defenseless, one of the rascals seized the bridle of 35 
Turner's fine horse, and ordered him to dismount. Turner 
was wholly unarmed; but the other jerked a little revolv- 
ing pistol out of his pocket, at which the Pawnee recoiled ; 
and just then some of our men appearing in the distance, 
the whole party whipped their rugged little horses, and 40 
made oft'. In no way daunted, Turner foolishly persisted 
in going forward. 



54 THE OREGON TRAIL 

Long after leaving him, and late this afternoon, in the 
midst of a gloomy and barren prairie, we came suddenly 
upon the great Pawnee trail, leading from their villages 
on the Platte to their war and hunting grounds to the south- 
5 ward. Here every summer pass the motley concourse; 
thousands of savages, men, women, and children, horses 
and mules, laden with their weapons and implements, 
and an innumerable multitude of unruly wolfish dogs, 
who have not acquired the civilized accomplishment of 

lo barking, but howl like their wild cousins of the prairie. 

The permanent winter villages of the Pawnees stand 

on the lower Platte, but throughout the summer the greater 

part of the inhabitants are wandering over the plains, a 

treacherous, cowardly banditti, who by a thousand acts 

15 of pillage and murder have deserved summary chastise- 
ment at the hands of government. Last year a Dahcotah 
warrior performed a signal exploit at one of these villages. 
He approached it alone in the middle of a dark night, and 
clambering up the outside of one of the lodges, which are 

20 in the form of a half-sphere, he looked in at the round hole 
maSe at the top for the escape of smoke. The dusky 
light from the smoldering embers showed him the forms 
of the sleeping inmates; and dropping lightly through the 
opening, he unsheathed his knife, and, stirring the fire, coolly 

25 selected his victims. One by one he stabbed and scalped 
them, when a child suddenly awoke and screamed. He 
rushed from the lodge, yelled a Sioux war-cry, shouted 
his name in triumph and defiance, and in a moment had 
darted out upon the dark prairie, leaving the whole village 

30 behind him in a tumult, with the howling and baying of 
dogs, the screams of women, and the yells of the enraged 
warriors. 

Our friend Kearsley, as we learned on rejoining him, 
signalized himself by a less bloody achievement. He and 

35 his men were good woodsmen, and well skilled in the use 
of the rifle, but found themselves wholly out of their ele- 
ment on the prairie. None of them had ever seen a buf- 
falo, and they had very vague conceptions of his nature 
and appearance. On the day after they reached the Platte, 

40 looking toward a distant swell, they beheld a multitude 
of little black specks in motion upon its surface. 



THE PLATTE AND THE DESERT 55 

"Take your rifles, boys," said Kearsley, "and we'll 
have fresh meat for supper." This inducement was quite 
sufficient. The ten men left their wagons and set out in 
hot haste, some on horseback and some on foot, in pursuit 
of the supposed buffalo. Meanwhile a high grassy ridge 5 
shut the game from view; but mounting it after half an 
hour's running and riding, they found themselves sud- 
denly confronted by about thirty mounted Pawnees ! 
The amazement and consternation were mutual. Having 
nothing but their bows and arrows, the Indians thought lo 
their hour was come, and the fate that they were no doubt 
conscious of richly deserving about to overtake them. So 
they began, one and all, to shout forth the most cordial 
salutations of friendship, running up with extreme, earnest- 
ness to shake hands with the Missourians, who "" were as 15 
much rejoiced as they were to escape the expected conflict. 

A low undulating line of sand-hills bounded the horizon 
before us. That day we rode ten consecutive hours, and 
it was dusk before we entered the hollows and gorges of 
these gloomy little hills. At length we gained the summit, 20 
and the long expected valley of the Platte ° lay before us. 
We all drew rein, and, gathering in a knot on the crest of 
the- hill, sat joyfully looking down upon the prospect. It 
was right welcome; strange too, and striking to the im- 
agination, and yet it had not one picturesque or beauti- 25 
ful feature ; nor had it any of the features of grandeur, 
other than its vast extent, its solitude, and its wildness. 
For league after league a plain as level as a frozen lake was 
outspread beneath us; here and there the Platte, divided 
into a dozen threadlike sluices, was traversing it, and an 30 
occasional clump of wood, rising in the midst like a shadowy 
island, relieved the monotony of the waste. No living 
thing was moving throughout the vast landscape, except 
the lizards that darted over the sand and through the rank 
grass and prickly pear just at our feet. And yet stern 35 
and wild associations gave a singular interest to the view; 
for here each man lives by the strength of his arm and the 
valor of his heart. Here society is reduced to its original 
elements, the whole fabric of art and conventionality is 
struck rudely to pieces, and men find themselves suddenly 4° 
brought back to the wants and resources of their original 
natures. 



56 THE OREGON TRAIL 



We had passed the more toilsome and monotonous part 
of the journey; but four hundred miles still intervened be- 
tween us and Fort Laramie; and to reach that point cost 
us the travel of three additional weeks. During the whole 
5 of this time we were passing up the center of a long nar- 
row sandy plain, ° reaching like an outstretched belt nearly 
to the Rocky mountains. Two lines of sand-hills, broken 
often into the wildest and most fantastic forms, flanked 
the valley at the distance of a mile or two on the right and 

loleft; while beyond them lay a barren, trackless waste — 
the great American desert — extending for hundreds of 
miles to the Arkansas on the one side and the Missouri 
on the other. Before us and behind us, the level monot- 
ony of the plain was unbroken as far as the eye could 

15 reach. Sometimes it glared in the sun, an expanse of hot, 
bare sand; sometimes it was veiled by long coarse grass. 
Huge skulls and whitening bones of buffalo were scat- 
tered everywhere; the ground was tracked by myriads of 
them, and often covered with the circular indentations 

20 where the bulls had wallowed in the hot weather. From 
every gorge and ravine, opening from the hills, descended 
deep, well-worn paths, where the buffalo issue twice a day 
in regular procession down to drink in the Platte. The 
river itself runs through the midst, a thin sheet of rapid, 

25 turbid water, half a mile wide, and scarce two feet deep. 
Its low banks, for the most part without a bush or a tree, 
are of loose sand, with which the stream is so charged that 
it grates on the teeth in drinking. The naked landscape 
is, of itself, dreary and monotonous enough ; and yet the 

30 wild beasts and wild men that frequent the valley of the 
Platte make it a scene of interest and excitement to the 
traveler. Of those who have journeyed there, scarce one, 
perhaps, fails to look back with fond regret to his horse and 
his rifie. 

35 Early in the morning after we reached the Platte, a long 
procession of squalid savages approached our camp. Each 
was on foot, leading his horse by a rope of bull-hide. His 
attire consisted merely of a scanty cincture ° and an old 
buffalo robe, tattered and begrimed by use, which hung 

40 over his shoulders. His head was close shaven, except a 
ridge of hair reaching over the crown from the center of 



THE PLATTE AND THE DESERT 57 



the forehead, very much hke the long bristles on the back 
of a hyena, and he carried his bow and arrows in his hand, 
while his meager little horse was laden with dried buffalo 
meat, the produce of his hunting. Such were the first 
specimens that we met — and very indifferent ones they 5 
were — of the genuine savages of the prairie. 

They were the Pawnees whom Kearsley had encoun- 
tered the day before, and belonged to a large hunting 
party known to be ranging the prairie in the vicinity. 
They strode rapidly past, within a furlong of our tents, lo 
not pausing or looking toward us, after the manner of In- 
dians when meditating mischief or conscious of ill-desert. 
I went out and met them; and had an amicable confer- 
ence with the chief, presenting him with half a pound of 
tobacco, at which unmerited bounty he expressed much 15 
gratificatiora. These fellows, or some of their companions, 
had committed a dastardly outrage upon an emigrant 
party in advance of us. Two men, out on horseback at 
a distance, were seized by them, but lashing their horses, 
they broke loose and fled. At this the Pawnees raised the 20 
yell and shot at them, transfixing the hindermost through 
the back with several arrows, while his companion gal- 
loped away and brought in the news to his party. The 
panic-stricken emigrants remained for several days in 
camp, not daring to even send out in quest of the dead body. 25 

The reader will recollect Turner, the man whose nar- 
row escape was mentioned not long since. We heard that 
the men, whom the entreaties of his wife induced to go in 
search of him, found him leisurely driving along his re- 
covered oxen, and whistling in utter contempt of the Pawnee 30 
nation. His party was encamped within two miles of us; 
t)ut we passed them that morning, while the men were 
driving in the oxen, and the women packing their domestic 
utensils and their numerous offspring in the spacious patri- 
archal wagons. As we looked back we saw their caravan 35 
dragging its slow length along the plain; wearily toiling 
on its way, to found new empires in the West. 

Our New England climate is mild and equable compared 
with that of the Platte. This very morning, for instance, 
was close and sultry, the sun rising with a faint oppressive 4° 
heat; when suddenly darkness gathered in the west, and 



58 THE OREGON TRAIL 

a furious blast of sleet and hail drove full in our faces, icy 
cold, and urged with such demoniac vehemence that it 
felt like a storm of needles. It was curious to see the 
horses; they faced about in extreme displeasure, holding 
5 their tails like whipped dogs, and shivering as the angry 
gusts, howling louder than a concert of wolves, swept 
over us. Wright's long train of mules came sweeping 
round before the storm like a flight of brown snowbirds 
driven by a winter tempest. Thus we all remained sta- 

lo tionary for some minutes, crouching close to our horses' 
necks, much too surly to speak, though once the captain 
looked up from between the collars of his coat, his face 
blood-red, and the muscles of his mouth contracted by the 
cold into a most ludicrous grin of agony. He grumbled 

IS something that sounded like a curse, directed, as we believed, 
against the unhappy hour when he had first thought of 
leaving home. The thing was too good to last long; and 
the instant the puffs of wind subsided we erected our tents, 
and remained in camp for the rest of a gloomy and lowering 

20 day. The emigrants also encamped near at hand. We, 
being first on the ground, had appropriated all the wood 
within reach; so that our fire alone blazed cheerily. Around 
it soon gathered a group of uncouth figures, shivering in 
the drizzling rain. Conspicuous among them were two 

25 or three of the half-savage men who spend their reckless 
lives in trapping among the Rocky mountains, or in trading 
for the fur company in the Indian villages. They were all 
of Canadian extraction; their hard, weather-beaten faces 
and bushy mustaches looked out from beneath the hoods 

30 of their white cap6tes° with a bad and brutish expression, 
as if their owner might be the willing agent of any villainy. 
And such in fact is the character of many of these men. . 

On the day following we overtook Kearsley's wagons, 
and thenceforward, for a week or two, we were fellow- 

35 travelers. One good efi'ect, at least, resulted from the 
alliance; it materially diminished the serious fatigue of 
standing guard; for the party being now more numerous, 
there were longer intervals between each man's turns of 
duty. 



CHAPTER VII 

THE BUFFALO 

Four days on the Platte, and yet no buffalo! Last 
year's signs of them were prove kingly abundant; and 
wood being extremely scarce, we found an admirable 
substitute in the bois de vache,° which burns exactly like 
peat, producing no unpleasant effects. The wagons one s 
morning had left the camp; Shaw and I were already on 
horseback, but Henry Chatillon still sat cross-legged by 
the dead embers of the fire, playing pensively with the 
lock of his rifle, while his sturdy Wyandot pony stood 
quietly behind him, looking over his head. At last he got lo 
up, patted the neck of the pony (whom, from an exagger- 
ated appreciation of his merits, he had christened Five 
Hundred Dollar), and then mounted with a melancholy 
air. 

"What is it, Henry?" 15 

"Ah, I feel lonesome; I never been here before; but 
I see away yonder over the buttes,° and down there on the 
prairie, black — all black with buffalo!" 

In the afternoon he and I left the party in search of an 
antelope; until at the distance of a mile or two on the 20 
right, the tall white wagons ° and the little black specks of 
horsemen were just visible, so slowly advancing that they 
seemed motionless; and far on the left rose the broken 
line of scorched, desolate sand-hills. The vast plain 
waved with tall rank grass that swept our horses' bellies ; 25 
it swayed to and fro in billows with the light breeze, and 
far and near antelope and wolves were moving through 
it, the hairy backs of the latter alternately appearing and 
disappearing as they bounded awkwardly along: while 
the antelope, with the simple curiosity peculiar to them, 30 
would often approach us closely, their little horns and 
white throats just visible above the grass tops, as they 
gazed eagerly at us with their round black eyes. 

59 



60 THE OREGON TRAIL 

I dismounted, and amused myself with firing at the 
wolves. Henr}^ attentively scrutinized the surrounding 
landscape; at length he gave a shout, and called on me 
to mount again, pointing in the direction of the sand-hills, 
5 A mile and a half from us, two minute black specks slowly 
traversed the face of one of the bare glaring declivities, and 
disappeared behind the summit. "Let us go!" cried 
Henrj^, belaboring the sides of Five Hundred Dollar; and 
I following in his wake, we galloped rapidl}^ through the 

lo rank grass toward the base of the hills. 

From one of their openings descended a deep ravine, 
widening as it issued on the prairie. We entered it, and 
galloping up, in a moment were surrounded by the bleak 
sand-hills. Half of their steep sides were bare; the rest 

15 were scantily clothed with clumps of grass, and various 
uncouth plants, conspicuous among which appeared the 
reptile-like prickly-pear. They were gashed with number- 
less ravines; and as the sky had suddenly darkened, and 
a cold gustj^ wind arisen, the strange shrubs and the dreary 

20 hills looked doubly wild and desolate. But Henry's face 
was all eagerness. He tore off a little hair from the piece 
of buffalo robe under his saddle, and threw it up, to show 
the course of the wind. It blew directly before us. The 
game were therefore to windward, and it was necessary 

25 to make our best speed to get round them. 

We scrambled from this ravine, and galloping away 
through the hollows, soon found another, winding like a 
snake among the hills, and so deep that it completely con- 
cealed us. We rode up the bottom of it, glancing through 

30 the shrubbery at its edge, till Henry abruptly jerked his 
rein, and slid out of his saddle. Full a quarter of a mile 
distant, on the outline of the farthest hill, a long procession 
of buffalo were walking, in Indian file, with the utmost 
gravity and deliberation; then more appeared, clambering 

35 from a hollow not far off, and ascending, one behind the 
other, the grassy slope of another hill; then a shaggy head 
and a pair of short broken horns appeared issuing out of 
a ravine close at hand, and with a slow, stately step, one 
by one, the enormous brutes came into view, taking their 

40 way across the valley, wholly unconscious of an enemy. 
In a moment Henry was worming his way, lying flat on 



THE BUFFALO 61 

the ground, through grass and prickly-pears, ° toward his 
unsuspecting victims. He had with him both my rifle 
and his own. He was soon out of sight, and still the 
buffalo kept issuing into the valley. For a long time all 
was silent; I sat holding his horse, and wondering what 5 
he was about, when suddenly, in rapid succession, came 
the sharp reports of the two rifles, and the whole line of 
buffalo, quickening their pace into a clumsy trot, gradually 
disappeared over the ridge of the hill. Henry rose to his 
feet, and stood looking after them. lo 

"You have missed them," said I. 

"Yes," said Henry; "let us go." He descended into 
the ravine, loaded the rifles, and mounted his horse. 

We rode up the hill after the buffalo. The herd was 
out of sight when we reached the top, but lying on the 15 
grass not far off, was one quite lifeless, and another vio- 
lently struggling in the death agony. 

"You see I miss him!" remarked Henry. He had fired 
from a distance of more than a hundred and fifty yards, and 
both balls had passed through the lungs — the true mark in 20 
shooting buffalo. 

The darkness increased, and a driving storm came on. 
Tying our horses to the horns of the victims, Henry began 
the bloody work of dissection, slashing away with the 
science of a connoisseur, while I vainly endeavored to 25 
imitate him. Old Hendrick recoiled with horror and in- 
dignation when I endeavored to tie the meat to the strings 
of rawhide, always carried for this purpose, dangling at 
the back of the saddle. After some difficulty we overcame 
his scruples ; and heavily burdened with the more eligible 30 
portions of the buffalo, we set out on our return. Scarcely 
had we emerged from the labyrinth of goi^ges and ravines, 
and issued upon the open prairie, when the pricking sleet 
came driving, gust upon gust, directly in our faces. It 
was strangely dark, though wanting still an hour of sun- 35 
'set. The freezing storm soon penetrated to the skin, 
but the uneasy trot of our heavy-gaited horses kept us 
warm enough, as we forced them unwillingly in the teeth 
of the sleet and rain, by the powerful suasion of our Indian 
whips. The prairie in this place was hard and level. A 40 
flourishing colony of prairie dogs had burrowed into it in 



62 THE OREGON TRAIL 

every direction, and the little mounds of fresh earth around 
their holes were about as numerous as the hills in a corn- 
field; but not a yelp was to be heard; not the nose of a 
single citizen was visible; all had retired to the depths of 
5 their burrows, and we envied them their dry and com- 
fortable habitations. An hour's hard riding showed us our 
tent dimly looming through the storm, one side puffed out 
by the force of the wind, and the other collapsed in pro- 
portion, while the disconsolate horses stood shivering close 

lo around, and the wind kept up a dismal whistling in the 
boughs of three old half-dead trees above. Shaw, like a 
patriarch, sat on his saddle in the entrance, with a pipe 
in his mouth, and his arms folded, contemplating, with 
cool satisfaction, the piles of meat that we flung on the 

15 ground before him. A dark and dreary night succeeded; 
but the sun rose with a heat so sultry and languid that the 
captain excused himself on that account from waylaying 
an old buffalo bull, who with stupid gravity was walking 
over the prairie to drink at the river. So much for the 

20 climate of the Platte ! 

But it was not the weather alone that had produced this 
sudden abatement of the sportsmanlike zeal which the cap- 
tain had always professed. He had been out on the after- 
noon before, together with several members of his party; 

25 but their hunting was attended with no other result than 
the loss of one of their best horses, severely injured by 
Sorel, in vainly chasing a wounded bull. The captain, 
whose ideas of hard riding were all derived from trans- 
atlantic sources, expressed the utmost amazement at the 

30 feats of Sorel, who went leaping ravines, and dashing at 
full speed up and down the sides of precipitous hills, lash- 
ing his horse with the recklessness of a Rocky Mountain 
rider. Unfortunately for the poor animal, he was the prop- 
erty of R., against whom Sorel entertained an unbounded 

35 aversion. The captain himself, it seemed, had also at- 
tempted to "run" a buffalo, but though a good and prac-- 
ticed horseman, he had soon given over the attempt, being 
astonished and utterly disgusted at the nature of the ground 
he was required to ride over. 

40 Nothing unusual occurred on that day; but on the fol- 
lowing morning Henry Chatillon, looking over the oceanlike 



THE BUFFALO 63 



expanse, saw near the foot of the distant hills something 
that looked like a band of buffalo. He was not sure, he 
said, but at all events, if they were buffalo, there was a fine 
chance for a race. Shaw and I at once determined to try 
the speed of our horses. 5 

"Come, captain; we'll see which can ride hardest, a 
Yankee or an Irishman." 

But the captain maintained a grave and austere counte- 
nance. He mounted his led horse, however, though very 
slowly ; and we set out at a trot. The game appeared about lo 
three miles distant. As we proceeded the captain made 
various remarks of doubt and indecision ; and at length de- 
clared he would have nothing to do with such a breakneck 
business; protesting that he had ridden plenty of steeple- 
chases in his day, but he never knew what riding was till 15 
he found himself behind a band of buffalo day before yes- 
terday. "I am convinced," said the captain, ''that 'run- 
ning' is out of the question. ° Take my advice now and 
don't attempt it. It's dangerous, and of no use at all." 

"Then why did you come out with us? What do you 20 
mean to do?" 

"I shall 'approach,'" replied the captain. 

"You don't mean to 'approach' with your pistols, do 
you ? We have all of us left our rifles in the wagons." 

The captain seemed staggered at the suggestion. In 25 
his characteristic indecision, at setting out, pistols, rifles, 
"running," and "approaching" were mingled in an inextri- 
cable medley in his brain. He trotted on in silence between 
us for a while; but at length he dropped behind, and slowly 
walked his horse back to rejoin the party. Shaw and I 30 
kept on; when lo ! as we advanced, the band of buffalo 
were transformed into certain clumps of tall bushes, dotting 
the prairie for a considerable distance. At this ludicrous 
termination of our chase, we followed the example of our 
late ally, and turned back toward the party. We were 35 
skirting the brink of a deep ravine, when we saw Henry 
and the broad-chested pony coming toward us at a gallop. 

"Here's old Papin and Frederic, down from Fort Lara- 
mie!" shouted Henry, long before he came up. We had 
for some days expected this encounter. Papin was the 40 
bourgeois of Fort Laramie. He had come down the river 



64 THE OREGON TRAIL 

with the buffalo robes and the beaver, the produce of the 
last winter's trading. I had among our baggage a letter 
which I wished to commit to their hands; so requesting 
Henry to detain the boats if he could until my return, I set 

5 out after the wagons. They were about four miles in ad- 
vance. In half an hour I overtook them, got the letter, 
trotted back upon the trail, and looking carefully, as I rode, 
saw a patch of broken, storm-blasted trees, and moving 
near them some little black specks like rnen and horses. 

lo Arriving at the place, I found a strange assembly. The 
boats, eleven in number, deep-laden with the skins, hugged 
close to the shore, to escape being borne down by the swift 
current. The rowers, swarthy ignoble Mexicans, turned 
their brutish faces upward to look, as I reached the bank. 

15 Papin sat in the middle of one of the boats upon the canvas 
covering that protected the robes. He was a stout, robust 
fellow, with a little gray eye, that had a peculiarly sly 
twinkle. "Frederic," also stretched his tall rawboned 
proportions close by the bourgeois, and " mountain-men "° 

20 completed the group; some lounging in the boats, some 
strolling on shore; some attired in gayly painted buffalo 
robes, like Indian dandies; some with hair saturated with 
red paint, and beplastered with glue to their temples; and 
one bedaubed with vermilion upon his forehead and each 

25 cheek. They were a mongrel race ; yet the French blood 
seemed to predominate; in a few, indeed, might be seen the 
black snaky eye of the Indian half-breed, and one and all, 
they seemed to aim at assimilating themselves to their 
savage associates. 

30 I shook hands with the bourgeois, and delivered the letter; 
then the boats swung round into the stream and floated 
away. They had reason for haste, for already the voyage 
from Fort Laramie had occupied a full month, and the 
river was growing daily more shallow. Fifty times a day 

35 the boats had been aground ; indeed, those who navigate 
the Platte invariably spend half their time upon sand-bars. 
Two of these boats, the property of private traders, after- 
ward separating from the rest, got hopelessly involved in 
the shallows, not very far from the Pawnee villages, and 

40 were soon surrounded by a svvarm of the inhabitants. They 
carried off everything that they considered valuable, includ- 



THE BUFFALO Qo 

ing most of the robes; and amused themselves by tying up 
the men left on guard, and soundly whipping them with 
sticks. 

We encamped that night upon the bank of the river. 
Among the emigrants there was an overgrown boy, some 5 
eighteen years old, with a head as round and about as large 
as a pumpkin, and fever-and-ague fits had dyed his face of 
a corresponding color. He wore an old white hat, tied under 
his chin with a handkerchief; his body was short and 
stout, but his legs of disproportioned and appalling length. 10 
I observed him at sunset, breasting the hill with gigantic 
strides, and standing against the sky on the summit, like a 
colossal pair of tongs. In a moment after we heard him 
screaming frantically behind the ridge, and nothing doubt- 
ing that he was in the clutches of Indians or grizzly bears, 15 
some of the party caught up their rifles and ran to the 
rescue. His outcries, however, proved but an ebullition ° 
of joyous excitement; he had chased two little wolf pups 
to their burrow, and he was on his knees, grubbing away 
like a dog at the mouth of the hole, to get at them. 20 

Before morning he caused more serious disquiet in the 
camp. It was his turn to hold the middle guard; but no 
sooner was he called up, than he coolly arranged a pair of 
saddle-bags under a wagon, laid his head upon them, closed 
his eyes, opened his mouth, and fell asleep. The guard on 25 
our side of the camp, thinking it no part of his duty to look 
after the cattle of the emigrants, contented himself with 
watching our own horses and mules; the wolves, he said, 
were unusually noisy ; but still no mischief was anticipated 
until the sun rose, and not a hoof or horn was in sight ! 30 
The cattle were gone ! While Tom was quietly slumbering, 
the wolves had driven them away. 

Then we reaped the fruits of R.'s precious plan of travel- 
ing in company with emigrants. To leave them in their 
distress was not to be thought of, and we felt bound to 35 
wait until the cattle could be searched for, and, if pos- 
sible, recovered. But the reader may be curious to know 
what punishment awaited the faithless Tom. By the 
wholesome law of the prairie, he who falls asleep on guard 
is condemned to walk all day, leading his horse by the 40 
bridle, and we found much fault with our companions for 



66 THE OREGON TRAIL 



not enforcing such a sentence on the offender. Never- 
theless, had he been of our own party, I have no doubt 
he would in like manner have escaped scot-free. But the 
emigrants went farther than mere forbearance: they de- 
5 creed that since Tom couldn't stand guard without falling 
asleep, he shouldn't stand guard at all, and henceforward 
his slumbers were unbroken. Establishing such a premium 
on drowsiness could have no very beneficial effect upon the 
vigilance of our sentinels; for it is far from agreeable, after 

lo riding from sunrise to sunset, to feel your slumbers inter- 
rupted by the butt of a rifle nudging your side, and a sleepy 
voice growling in your ear that you must get up, to shiver 
and freeze for three weary hours at midnight. 

"Buffalo! buffalo!" It was but a grim old bull, roam- 

15 ing the prairie by himself in misanthropic seclusion ; but 
there might be more behind the hills. Dreading the mo- 
notony and languor of the camp, Shaw and I saddled our 
horses, buckled our holsters in their places, and set out 
with Henry Chatillon in search of the game. Henry, not 

20 intending to take part in the chase, but merely conducting 
us, carried his rifle with him, while we left ours behind as 
incumbrances. We rode for some five or six miles, and saw 
no living thing but wolves, snakes, and prairie dogs. 
"This won't do at all," said Shaw. 

25 "What won't do?" 

"There's no wood about here to make a litter for the 
wounded man; I have an idea that one of us will need 
something of the sort before the day is over." 

There was some foundation for such an apprehension, 

30 for the ground was none of the best for a race, and grew 
worse continually as we proceeded; indeed it soon became 
desperately bad, consisting of abrupt hills and deep hol- 
lows, cut by frequent ravines not easy to pass. At length, 
a mile in advance, we saw a band of bulls. Some were 

35 scattered grazing over a green declivity, while the rest 
were crowded more densely together in the wide hollow 
below. Making a circuit to keep out of sight, we rode 
toward them until w^e ascended a hill within a furlong 
of them, beyond which nothing intervened that could 

40 possibly screen us from their view. W^e dismounted be- 
hind the ridge just out of sight, drew our saddle-girths, 



THE BUFFALO 67 

examined our pistols, and mounting again rode over the 
hill, and descended at a canter toward them, bending 
close to our horses' necks. Instantly they took the alarm ; 
those on the hill descended; those below gathered into a 
mass, and the whole got in motion, shouldering each 5 
other along at a clumsy gallop. We followed, spurring 
our horses to full speed; and as the herd rushed, crowd- 
ing and trampling in terror through an opening in the 
hills, we were close at their heels, half suffocated by the 
clouds of dust. But as we drew near, their alarm and 10 
speed increased; our horses showed signs of the utmost 
fear, bounding violently aside as we approached, and re- 
fusing to enter among the herd. The buffalo now broke 
into several small bodies, scampering over the hills in 
different directions, and I lost sight of Shaw; neither of us 15 
knew where the other had gone. Old Pontiac ran like a 
frantic elephant up hill and down hill, his ponderous 
hoofs striking the prairie like sledge-hammers. He showed 
a curious mixture of eagerness and terror, straining to 
overtake the panic-stricken herd, but constantly recoiling 20 
in dismay as we drew near. The fugitives, indeed, offered 
no very attractive spectacle, with their enormous size and 
weight, their shaggy manes and the tattered remnants of 
their last winter's hair covering their backs in irregular 
shreds and patches, and flying off in the wind as they ran. 25 
At length I urged my horse close behind a bull, and after 
trying in vain, by blows and spurring, to bring him along- 
side, I shot a bullet into the buffalo from this disadvanta- 
geous position. At the report, Pontiac swerved so much 
that I was again thrown a little behind the game. The 3° 
bullet, entering too much in the rear, failed to disable the 
bull, for a buffalo requires to be shot at particular points, 
or he will certainly escape. The herd ran up a hill, and I 
followed in pursuit. As Pontiac rushed headlong down on 
the other side, I saw Shaw and Henry descending the 35 
hollow on the right, at a leisurely gallop ; and in front, the 
buffalo were just disappearing behind the crest of the next 
hill, their short tails erect, and their hoofs twinkling through 
a cloud of dust. 

At that moment, I heard Shaw and Henry shouting to 40 
me; but the muscles of a stronger arm than mine could 



THE OREGON TRAIL 



not have checked at once the furious course of Pontiac, 
whose mouth was as insensible as leather. Added to this, 
I rode him that morning with a common snaffle, ° having 
the day before, for the benefit of my other horse, unbuckled 
5 from my bridle the curb which I ordinarily used. A stronger 
and hardier brute never trod the prairie; but the novel 
sight of the buffalo filled him with terror, and when at full 
speed he was almost incontrollable. Gaining the top of the 
ridge, I saw nothing of the buffalo; they had all vanished 

lo amid the intricacies of the hills and hollows. Reloading 
my pistols, in the best way I could, I galloped on until I 
saw them again scuttling® along at the base of the hill, their 
panic somewhat abated. Down' went old Pontiac among 
them, scattering them to the right and left, and then we 

15 had another long chase. About a dozen bulls were before 
us, scouring over the hills, rushing down the declivities with 
tremendous weight and impetuosity, and then laboring with 
a weary gallop upward. Still Pontiac, in spite of spurring 
and beating, would not close with them. One bull at 

20 length fell a little behind the rest, and by dint of much 
effort I urged my horse within six or eight yards of his 
side. His back was darkened with sweat; he was panting 
heavily, while his tongue lolled out a foot from his jaws. 
Gradually I came up abreast of him, urging Pontiac with 

25 leg and rein nearer to his side, when suddenly he did what 
buffalo in such circumstances will always do; he slackened 
his gallop, and turning toward us, with an aspect of mingled 
rage and distress, lowered his huge shaggy head for a charge. 
Pontiac, with a snort, leaped aside in terror, nearly throw- 

30 ing me to the ground, as I was wholly unprepared for such 
an evolution. I raised my pistol in a passion to strike him 
on the head, but thinking better of it, fired the bullet after 
the bull, who had resumed his flight; then drew rein, and 
determined to rejoin my companions. It was high time. 

35 The breath blew hard from Pontiac's nostrils, and the sweat 
rolled in big drops down his sides ; I myself felt as if drenched 
in warm water. Pledging myself (and I redeemed the 

f)ledge) to take my revenge at a future opportunity, I 
ooked round for some indications to show me where I 
40 was, and what course I ought to pursue ; I might as well 
have looked for landmarks in the midst of the ocean. How 



THE BUFFALO 69 

many miles I had run or in what direction, I had no idea; 
and around me the prairie was rolling in steep swells and 
pitches, without a single distinctive feature to guide me. 
I had a little compass hung at my neck; and ignorant that 
the Platte at this point diverged considerably from its east- 5 
erly course, I thought that by keeping to the northward I 
should certainly reach it. So I turned and rode about two 
houi-s in that direction. The prairie changed as I advanced, 
softening away into easier undulations, but nothing like 
the Platte appeared, nor any sign of a human being; the lo 
same wild endless expanse lay around me still; and to all 
appearance I was as far from my object as ever. I began 
novv- to consider myself in danger of being lost; and there- 
fore, reining in my horse, summoned the scanty share of 
woodcraft that I possessed (if that term be applicable upon 15 
the prairie) to extricate me. Looking round, it occurred to 
me that the buffalo might prove my best guides. I soon 
found one of the paths made by them in their passage to 
the river ; it ran nearly at right angles to my course ; but 
turning my horse's head in the direction it indicated, his 20 
freer gait and erected ears assured me that I was right. 

But in the meantime my ride had been by no means a 
solitarv'- one. The whole face of the countrv' was dotted 
far ahd wide with countless hundreds of buffalo. They 
trooped along in files and columns, bulls, cows, and calves, 25 
on the green faces of the declivities in front. They 
scrambled away over the hilLs to the right and left; and 
far off, the pale blue swells in the extreme distance were 
dotted 'R'ith innumerable specks. Sometimes I surprised 
shaggy old bulls grazing alone, or sleeping behind the 3° 
ridges I ascended. They would leap up at my approach, 
stare stupidly at me through their tangled 'manes, and 
then gallop heavily away. The antelope were very numer- 
ous; and as they are always bold when in the neighbor- 
hood of buffalo, they would approach quite near to look 35 
at me, gazing intently with their great round eyes, then 
suddenly leap aside, and stretch lightly away over the 
prairie, as swiftly as a racehorse. Squalid," ruffianhke 
wolves sneaked through the hollows and sandy ravines. 
Several times I passed through villages of prairie dogs, 40 
who sat, each at the mouth of his burrow, holding his paws 



70 THE OREGON TRAIL 

■ before him in a supplicating attitude, and yelping away- 
most vehemently, energetically whisking his little tail with 
every squeaking cry he uttered. Prairie dogs are not 
fastidious in their choice of companions ; various long, 
5 checkered snakes were sunning themselves in the midst of 
the village, and demure little gray owls, with a large white 
ring around each eye, were perched side by side with the 
rightful inhabitants. The prairie teemed with life. Again 
and again I looked toward the crowded hillsides, and was 

lo sure I saw horsemen ; and riding near, with a mixture of 

hope and dread, for Indians were abroad, I found them 

transformed into a group of buffalo. There was nothing in 

human shape amid all this vast congregation of brute forms. 

When I turned down the buffalo path, the prairie seemed 

15 changed ; only a wolf or two glided past at intervals, 
like conscious felons, never looking to the right or left. 
Being now free from anxiety, I was at leisure to observe 
minutely the objects around me; and here, for the [first 
time, I noticed insects wholly different from any of the 

20 varieties found farther to the eastward. Gaud}^ butter- 
flies fluttered about my horse's head; strangely formed 
beetles, glittering with metallic luster, were crawling upon 
plants that I had never seen before; multitudes of lizards, 
too, were darting like lightning over the sand. 

25 I had run to a great distance from the river. It cost me 
a long ride on the buffalo path before I saw from the ridge 
of a sand-hill the pale surface of the Platte glistening in 
the midst of its desert valleys, and the faint outline of the . 
hills beyond waving along the sky. From where I stood, 

30 not a tree nor a bush nor a living thing was visible through- 
out the whole extent of the sun-scorched landscape. In 
half an hour I came upon the trail, not far from the river; 
and seeing that the party had not yet passed, I turned east- 
ward to meet them, old Pontiac's long swinging trot again 

35 assuring me that I was right in doing so. Having been 
slightly ill on leaving camp in the morning, six or seven 
hours of rough riding had fatigued me extremely. I soon 
stopped, therefore; flung my saddle on the ground, and with 
my head resting on it, and my horse's trail-rope tied loosely 

40 to my arm, lay waiting the arrival of the party, speculating 
meanwhile on the extent of the injuries Pontiac had received. 



THE BUFFALO 71 

At length the white wagon coverings rose from the verge 
of the plain. By a singular coincidence, almost at the 
same moment two horsemen appeared coming down from 
the hills. They were Shaw and Henry, who had searched 
for me awhile in the morning^ but well knowing the futility 5 
of the attempt in such a broken country, had placed them- 
selves on the top of the highest hill they could find, and 
picketing their horses near them, as a signal to me, had lain 
down and fallen asleep. The stray cattle had been recov- 
ered, as the emigrants told us, about noon. Before sunset, lo 
we pushed forward eight miles farther. 

June 7, 1846. — Four men are missing; R., Sorel, and two emi- 
grants. They set out this morning after buffalo, and have not yet 
made their appearance; whether killed or lost, we cannot tell. 

I find the above in my notebook, and well remember 15 
the council held on the occasion. Our fire was the scene 
of it; for the palpable superiority of Henry Chatillon's 
experience and skill made him the resort of the whole camp 
upon every question of difficulty. He was molding bullets 
at the fire, when the captain drew near, with a perturbed 20 
and care-worn expression of countenance, faithfully re- 
flected on the heavy features of Jack, who followed close 
behind. Then emigrants came straggling from their 
wagons toward the common center; various suggestions 
were made to account for the absence of the four men, 25 
and one or two of the emigrants declared that when out 
after the cattle they had seen Indians dogging them, and 
crawling like woh-es along the ridges of the hills. At this 
the captain slowly shook his head with double gravity, 
and solemnly remarked : 30 

"It's a serious thing to be traveling through this cursed 
wilderness;" an opinion in which Jack immediately ex- 
pressed a thorough coincidence. Henry would not com- 
mit himself by declaring any positive opinion : 

"Maybe he only follow the buffalo too far; maybe 35 
Indian kill him ; maybe he got lost ; I cannot tell ! " 

With this the auditors were obliged to rest content; the 
emigrants, not in the least alarmed, though curious to 
know what had become of their comrades, walked back 



72 THE OREGON TRAIL 

to their wagons, and the captain betook himself pensively 
to his tent. Shaw and I followed his example. 

"It will be a bad thing for om- plans," said he as we 

entered, "if these fellows don't get back safe. The cap- 

5 tain is as helpless on the prairie as a child. We shall have 

to take him and his brother in tow; they will hang on us 

like lead." 

"The prairie is a strange place," said I. "A month 
ago I should have thought it rather a startling affair to have 

lo an acquaintance ride out in the morning and lose his scalp 
before night, but here it seems the most natural thing in 
the world; not that I believe that R. has lost his yet." 

If a man is constitutionally liable to nervous apprehen- 
sions, a tour on the distant prairies would prove the best 

IS prescription; for though when in the neighborhood of the 
Rocky mountains he may at times find himself placed in 
circumstances of some danger, I believe that few ever 
breathe that reckless atmosphere without becoming almost 
indifferent to any evil chance that may befall themselves 

20 or their friends. 

Shaw had a propensity for luxurious indulgence. He 
spread his blanket with the utmost accuracy on the ground, 
picked up the sticks and stones that he thought might 
interfere with his comfort, adjusted his saddle to serve as 

25 a pillow, and composed himself for his night's rest. I had 
the first guard that evening; so, taking my rifle, I went 
out of the tent. It was perfectly dark. A brisk wind blew 
down from the hills, and the sparks from the fire were 
streaming over the prairie. One of the emigrants, named 

30 Morton, was my companion ; and laying our rifles on the 
grass, we sat down together by the fire. Morton was a 
Kentuckian, an athletic fellow, with a fine intelligent face, 
and in his manners and conversation he showed the essen- 
tial characteristics of a gentleman. Our conversation 

35 turned on the pioneers ° of his gallant native state. The 
three hours of our watch dragged away at last, and we 
went to call up the relief. 

R.'s guard succeeded mine. He was absent; but the 
captain, anxious lest the camp should be left defense- 

40 less, had volunteered to stand in his place; so I went to 
wake him up. There was no occasion for it, for the cap- 



THE BUFFALO 73 

tain had been awake since nightfall. A fire was blazing 
outside of the tent, and bj' the light which struck through 
the canvas, I saw him and Jack lying on their backs, with 
their eyes wide open. The captain responded instantly' to 
ni}^ call; he jumped up, seized the double-barreled rifle, 5 
and came out of the tent with an air of solemn determina- 
tion, as if about to devote himself to the safety of the 
party. I went and lay down, not doubting that for the next 
three hours our slumbers would be guarded with sufficient 
vigilance. ic 



CHAPTER VIII 

TAKING FRENCH LEAVE 

On the eighth of June, at eleven o'clock, we reached the 
South fork of the Platte, at the usual fording place. For 
league upon league the desert uniformity of the prospect 
was almost unbroken; the hills were dotted with little 
5 tufts of shriveled grass, but betwixt these the white sand 
was glaring in the sun; and the channel of the river, al- 
most on a level with the plain, was but one great sand-bed, 
about half a mile wide. It was covered with water, but 
so scantily that the bottom was scarcely hidden; for, wide 

loas it is, the average depth of the Platte does not at this 
point exceed a foot and a half. Stopping near its bank, 
we gathered bois de vache, and made a meal of buffalo meat. 
Far off, on the other side, was a green meadow, where we 
could see the white tents and wagons of an emigrant camp ; 

15 and just opposite to us we could discern a group of men 
and animals at the water's edge. Four or five horsemen 
soon entered the river, and in ten minutes had waded across 
and clambered up the loose sand-bank. They were ill- 
looking fellows, thin and swarthy, with care-worn, anxious 

20 faces and lips rigidly compressed. They had good cause for 
anxiety; it was three days since they first encamped here, 
and on the night of their arrival they had lost 123 of their 
best cattle, driven off by the wolves, through the neglect 
of the man on guard. This discouraging and alarming 

25 calamity was not the first that had overtaken them. Since 
leaving the settlements, the}^ had met with nothing but mis- 
fortune. Some of their party had died ; one man had been 
killed by the Pawnees; and about a week before, they had 
been plundered b}'- the Dahcotahs of all their best horses, 

30 the wretched animals on which our visitors were mounted 
being the only ones that were left. They had encamped, 

74 



TAKING FRENCH LEAVE 75 

they told us, near sunset, by the side of the Platte, and 
their oxen were scattered over the meadow, while the band 
of horses were feeding a little farther off. Suddenly the 
ridges of the hills were alive with a swarm of mounted 
Indians, at least six hundred in number, who, with a tre- 5 
mendous yell, came pouring down toward the camp, rush- 
ing up within a few rods, to the great terror of the emi- 
grants; but suddenly wheeling, they swept around the 
band of horses, and in five minutes had disappeared with 
their prey through the openings of the hills, lo 

As these emigrants were telling their story, we saw four 
other men approaching. They proved to be R. and his 
companions, who had encountered no mischance of any 
kind, but had only wandered too far in pursuit of the game. 
They said they had seen no Indians, but only "millions of 15 
buffalo"; and both R. and Sorel had meat dangling behind 
their saddles. 

The emigrants recrossed the river, and we prepared to 
follow. First the heavy ox-wagons plunged down the 
bank, and dragged slowly over the sand-beds; sometimes 20 
the hoofs of the oxen were scarcely wetted by the thin 
sheet of water; and the next moment the river would be 
boiling against their sides, and eddying fiercely around 
the wheels. Inch by inch they receded from the shore, 
dwindling every moment, until at length they seemed to 25 
be floating far in the very middle of the river. A more 
critical experiment awaited us ; for our little mule-cart was 
but ill-fitted for the passage of so swift a stream. We 
watched it with anxiety till it seemed to be a little motion- 
less white speck in the midst of the waters ; and it was 30 
motionless, for it had stuck fast in a quicksand. The little 
mules were losing their footing, the wheels were sinking 
deeper and deeper, and the water began to rise through the 
bottom and drench the goods within. All of us who had 
remained on the hither bank galloped to the rescue; the 35 
men jumped into the water, adding their strength to that 
of the mules, until by much effort the cart was extricated, 
and conveyed in safety across. 

As we gained the other bank, a rough group of men 
surrounded us. They were not robust, nor large of frame, 40 
yet they had an aspect of hardy endurance. Finding at 



76 THE OREGON TRAIL 

home no scope for their fiery energies, they had betaken 
themselves to the prairie; and in them seemed to be re- 
vived, with redoubled force, that fierce spirit which im- 
pelled their ancestors, scarce more lawless than them- 
5 selves, from the German forests, ° to inundate Europe and 
break to pieces the Roman empire. A fortnight afterward 
this unfortunate party passed Fort Laramie, while we 
were there. Not one of their missing oxen had -been re- 
covered, though they had remained encamped a week in 

lo search of them; and they had been compelled to abandon 
a great part of their baggage and provisions, and yoke 
cows and heifers to their wagons to carry them forward 
upon their journey, the most toilsome and hazardous part 
of which lay still before them. 

15 It is worth noticing that on the Platte one may some- 
times see the shattered wrecks of ancient claw-footed 
tables, well waxed and rubbed, or massive bureaus of 
carved oak. These, many of them no doubt the relics of 
ancestral prosperity in the colonial time, must have en- 

20 countered strange vicissitudes. Imported, perhaps, origi- 
nally from England ; then, with the declining fortunes of 
their owners, borne across the Alleghanies to the remote 
wilderness of Ohio or Kentucky; then to Illinois or Mis- 
souri; and now at last fondly stowed away in the family 

25 wagon for the interminable journey to Oregon. But the 
stern privations of the way are little anticipated. The cher- 
ished relic is soon flung out to scorch and crack upon the 
hot prairie. 

We resumed our journey; but we had gone scarcely a 

30 mile, when R. called out from the rear: 
"We'll camp here." 

" Why do you want to camp ? Look at the sun. It is 
not three o'clock yet." 
" We'll camp here !" 

35 This was the only reply vouchsafed. Deslauriers was in 
advance with his cart. Seeing the mule-wagon wheeling 
from the track, he began to turn his own team in the same 
direction. 

" Go on, Deslauriers," and the little cart advanced again. 

40 As we rode on, we soon heard the wagon of our confed- 
erates creaking and jolting on behind us, and the driver, 



TAKING FRENCH LEAVE 77 

Wright, discharging a furious volley of oaths against his 
mules; no doubt venting upon them the wrath which he 
dared not direct against a more appropriate object. 

Something of this sort had frequently occurred. Our 
English friend was by no means partial to us, and we 5 
thought we discovered in his conduct a deliberate intention 
to thwart and annoy us, especially by retarding the move- 
ments of the party, which he knew that we, being Yankees, 
were anxious to quicken. Therefore he would insist on 
encamping at all unseasonable hours, saying that fifteen lo 
miles was a sufficient day's journey. Finding our wishes 
systematically disregarded, we took the direction of affairs 
into our own hands. Keeping always in advance, to the 
inexpressible indignation of R., we encamped at what 
time and place we thought proper, not much caring whether 15 
the rest chose to follow or not. They always did so, how- 
ever, pitching their tents near ours, with sullen and wrathful 
countenances. 

Traveling together on these agreeable terms did not suit 
our tastes ; for some time we had meditated a separation. 20 
The connection with this party had cost us various delays 
and inconveniences; and the glaring want of courtesy 
and good sense displayed by their virtual leader did not 
dispose us to bear these annoyances with much patience. 
We resolved to leave camp early in the morning, and push 25 
forward as rapidly as possible for Fort Laramie, which 
we hoped to reach, by hard traveling, in four or five days. 
The captain soon trotted up between us, and we explained 
our intentions. 

"A very extraordinary proceeding, upon my word!" he 3° 
remarked. Then he began to enlarge upon the enormity 
of the design. The most prominent impression in his mind 
evidently was that we were acting a base and treacherous 
part in deserting his party, in what he considered a very 
dangerous stage of the journey. To palliate the atrocity 35 
of our conduct, we ventured to suggest that we were only 
four in number while his party still included sixteen men; 
and as, moreover, we were to go forward and they were to 
follow, at least a full proportion of the perils he apprehended 
would fall upon us. But the austerity of the captain's 40 
features would not relax. '• A very extraordinary proceed- 



78 THE OREGON TRAIL 

ing, gentlemen!" and repeating this, he rode off to confer 
with his principah 

By good luck, we found a meadow of fresh grass, and a 
large pool of rain-water in the midst of it. We encamped 
5 here at sunset. Plenty of buffalo skulls were lying around, 
bleaching in the sun; and sprinkled thickly among the 
grass was a great variety of strange flowers. I had nothing 
else to do, and so gathering a handful,! sat down on a buffalo 
skull to study them. Although the offspring of a wilder- 

lo ness, their texture was frail and delicate, and their colors 
extremely rich; pure white, dark blue, and a transparent 
crimson. One traveling in this country seldom has leisure 
to think of anything but the stern features of the scenery 
and its accompaniments, or the practical details of each 

15 day's journey. Like them, he and his thoughts grow hard 
and rough. But now these flowers suddenly awakened a 
train of associations as alien to the rude scene around me 
as they were themselves; and for the moment my thoughts 
went back to New England. A throng of fair and well- 

20 remembered faces rose, vividly as life, before me. "There 
are good things," thought I, "in the savage life, but what 
can it offer to replace those powerful and ennobling influ- 
ences that can reach unimpaired over more than three thou- 
sand miles of mountains, forests, and deserts ? " 

25 Before sunrise on the next morning our tent was down; 
we harnessed our best horses to the cart and left the camp. 
But first we shook hands with our friends the emigrants, 
who sincerely wished us a safe journey, though some others 
of the party might easily have been consoled had we en- 

30 countered an Indian war party on the way. The captain 
and his brother were standing on the top of a hill, wrapped 
in their plaids, like spirits of the mist, keeping an anxious 
eye on the band of horses below. We waved adieu to them 
as we rode off the ground. The captain replied with a salu- 

35 tation of the utmost dignity, which Jack tried to imitate ; 
but being little practiced in the gestures of polite society, 
his effort was not a very successful one. 

In five minutes we had gained the foot of the hills, but 
here we came to a stop. Old Hendrick was in the shafts, 

40 and being the very incarnation of perverse and brutish 
obstinacy, he utterly refused to move. Deslauriers lashed 



TAKING FRENCH LEAVE 79 

and swore till he was tired, but Hendrick stood like a rock, 
grumbling to himself and looking askance at his enemy, 
until he saw a favorable opportunity to take his revenge, 
when he struck out under the shaft with such cool malig- 
nity of intention that Deslauriers only escaped the blow by a 5 
sudden skip into the air, such as no one but a Frenchman 
could achieve. Shaw and he then joined forces, and lashed 
on both sides at once. The brute stood still for a while 
till he could bear it no longer, when all at once he began to 
kick and plunge till he threatened the utter demolition of 10 
the cart and harness. We glanced back at the camp, 
which was in full sight. Our companions, inspired by 
emulation, were leveling their tents and driving in their 
cattle and horses. 

"Take the horse out," said I. 15 

I took the saddle from Pontiac and put it upon Hendrick ; 
the former was harnessed to the cart in an instant. " Avance 
done/" cried Deslauriers. Pontiac strode up the hill, 
twitching the little cart after him as if it were a feather's 
weight; and though, as we gained the top, we saw the 20 
wagons of our deserted comrades just getting into motion, 
we had little fear that they could overtake us. Leaving 
the trail, we struck directly across the country, and took 
the shortest cut to reach the main stream of the Platte. 
A deep ravine suddenly intercepted us. We skirted its 25 
sides until we found them less abrupt, and then plunged 
through the best way we could. Passing behind the sandy 
ravines called Ash Hollow, we stopped for a short nooning 
at the side of a pool of rain-water; but soon resumed our 
journey, and some hours before sunset were descending 30 
the ravines and .gorges opening downward upon the Platte 
to the west of Ash Hollow. Our horses waded to the fetlock 
in sand; the sun scorched like fire, and the air swarmed 
with sand-flies and mosquitoes. 

At last we gained the Platte. Following it for about 35 
five miles, we saw, just as the sun was sinking, a great 
meadow, dotted with hundreds of cattle, and beyond them 
an emigrant encampment. A party of about a dozen came 
out to meet us, looking upon us at first with cold and sus- 
picious faces. Seeing four men, different in appearance 40 
and equipment from themselves, emerging from the hills, 



80 THE OREGON TRAIL 

they had taken us for the van of the much-dreaded Mor- 
mons, whom they were very apprehensive of encountering. 
We made known our true character, and then they greeted 
us cordially. They expressed much surprise that so small 
5 a party should venture to traverse that region, though in 
fact such attempts are not unfrequently made by trappers 
and Indian traders. We rode with them to their camp. 
The wagons, some fifty in number, with here and there a 
tent intervening, were arranged as usual in a circle; in the 

lo area within the best horses were picketed, and the whole 
circumference was glowing with the dusky light of the fires, 
displaying the forms of the women and children who were 
crowded around them. This patriarchal scene was curious 
and striking enough; but we made our escape from the 

IS place with all possible dispatch, being tormented by the 
intrusive curiosity of the men who crowded around us. 
Yankee curiosity was nothing to theirs. They demanded 
our names, where we came from, where we were going, 
and what was our business. The last query was particu- 

2olarly embarrassing; since traveling in that country, or 
indeed anywhere, from any other motive than gain, was an 
idea of which they took no cognizance. Yet they were 
fine-looking fellows, with an air of frankness, generosity, 
and even courtesy, having come from one of the least bar- 

25 barous of the frontier counties. 

We passed about a mile beyond them, and encamped. 
Being too few in number to stand guard without excessive 
fatigue, we extinguished our fire, lest it should attract the 
notice of wandering Indians ; and picketing our horses close 

30 around us, slept undisturbed until morning. For three days 
we traveled without interruption, and on the evening of the 
third encamped by the well-known spring on Scott's bluff. ° 
Henry Chatillon and I rode out in the morning, and de- 
scending the western side of the bluff, were crossing the 

35 plain beyond. Something that seemed to me a file of 
buffalo came into view, descending the hills several miles 
before us. But Henry reined in his horse, and keenly 
peering across the prairie with a better and more practiced 
eye, soon discovered its real nature. "Indians!" he said. 

40 "Old Smoke's lodges, I b'lieve. Come! let us go! Wah ! 
get up, now, Five Hundred Dollar!" And laying on the 



TAKING FRENCH LEAVE 81 

lash with good will, he galloped forward, and I rode by his 
side. Not long after, a black speck became visible on the 
prairie, full two miles off. It grew larger and larger; it 
assumed the form of a man and horse; and soon we could 
discern a naked Indian, careering at full gallop toward us. 5 
When within a furlong he wheeled his horse in a wide circle, 
and made him describe various mystic figures upon the 
prairie; and Henry immediately compelled Five Hundred 
Dollar to execute similar evolutions. ''It is Old Smoke's 
village," said he, interpreting these signals; "didn't I lo 
say so?" 

As the Indian approached we stopped to wait for him, 
when suddenly he vanished, sinking, as it were, into the 
earth. He had come upon one of the deep ravines that 
everywhere intersect these prairies. In an instant the 15 
rough head of his horse stretched upward from the edge, 
and the rider and steed came scrambling out, and bounded 
up to us ; a sudden jerk of the rein brought the wildly act- 
ing horse to a full stop. Then followed the needless for- 
mality of shaking hands. I forget our visitor's name. 20 
He was a young fellow, of no note in his nation; yet in 
his person and equipments he was a good specimen of a 
Dahcotah warrior in his ordinary traveling dress. Like 
most of his people, he was nearly six feet high ; lithely and 
gracefully, yet strongly proportioned; and with a skin 25 
singularly clear and delicate. He wore no paint; his head • 
was bare; and his long hair was gathered in a clump be- 
hind, to the top of which was attached transversely, both 
by way of ornament and talisman, the mystic whistle, 
made of the wingbone of the war eagle, and endowed with 30 
various magic virtues. From the back of his head de- 
scended a line of glittering brass plates, tapering from the 
size of a doubloon to that of a half-dime, a cumbrous orna- 
ment, in high vogue among the Dahcotahs, and for which 
they pay the traders a most extravagant price; his chest 35 
and arms were naked, the buffalo robe, worn over them 
when at rest, had fallen about his waist, and was confined 
there by a belt. This, with the gay moccasins on his feet, 
completed his attire. For arms he carried a quiver of dog- 
skin at his back, and a rude but powerful bow in his hand. 40 
His horse had no bridle; a cord of hair, lashed around his 



82 THE OREGON TRAIL 

jaw, served in place of one. The saddle was of most sin- 
gular construction ; it was made of wood covered with raw- 
hide, and both pommel and cantle° rose perpendicularly- 
full eighteen inches, so that the warrior was wedged firmly 
5 in his seat, whence nothing could dislodge him but the burst- 
ing of the girths. ° 

Advancing with our new companion, we found more 
of his people seated in a circle on the top of a hill ; while a 
rude procession came straggling down the neighboring 

lo hollow, men, women, and children, with horses dragging 
the lodge-poles behind them. All that morning, as we 
moved forward, tall savages were stalking silently about us. 
At noon we reached Horse creek ; and as we waded through 
the shallow water, we saw a wild and striking scene. The 

15 main body of the Indians had arrived before us. On the 
farther bank stood a large and strong man, nearly naked, 
holding a white horse by a long cord, and eying us as we 
approached. This was the chief, whom Henry called Old 
Smoke. Just behind him his youngest and favorite squaw 

20 sat astride of a fine mule ; it was covered with caparisons 
of whitened skins, garnished with blue and white beads, and 
fringed with little ornaments of metal that tinkled with 
every movement of the animal. The girl had a light clear 
complexion, enlivened by a spot of vermilion on each cheek; 

25 she smiled, not to say grinned, upon us, showing two gleam- 

• ing rows of white teeth. In her hand, she carried the tall 
lance of her unchivalrous lord, fluttering with feathers; 
his round white shield hung at the side of her mule ; and his 
pipe was slung at her back. Her dress w^as a -tunic of deer- 

30 skin, made beautifully white by means of a species of clay 
found on the prairie, and ornamented with beads, arrayed 
in figures more gay than tasteful, and with long fringes at 
all the seams. Not far from the chief stood a group of 
stately figures, their white buffalo robes thrown over their 

35 shoulders, gazing coldly upon us ; and in the rear, for 
several acres, the ground was covered with a temporary 
encampment ; men, women, and children swarmed like 
bees ; hundreds of dogs, of all sizes and colors, ran restlessly 
about; and, close at hand, the wide shallow stream was 

40 alive with boys, girls, and young squaws, splashing, scream- 
ing, and laughing in the water. At the same time a long 



TAKING FREXCH LEAVE 83 

train of emigrant wagon.s was crossing the creek. Dragging 
on in their slow, hea\-y procession,, they passed the en- 
campment of the people whom they and their descendants, 
in the space of a century, are to sweep from the face of the 
earth. 5 

The encampment itself wa.s merely a temporary one 
during the heat of the day. None of the lodges were erected ; 
but their hea\'y leather coverings, and the long poles used 
to support them, were scattered even.' where around, among 
weapons, domestic utensils, and the rude harness of mules lo 
and horses. The squaws of each lazy warrior had made 
him a shelter from the sun, b}' stretching a few buffalo 
robes, or the corner of a lodge-covering upon poles ; and here 
he sat in the shade, with a favorite young squaw, perhaps, 
at his side, glittering with all imaginable trinkets. Before 15 
him stood the insignia of his rank as a warrior, his white 
shield of bull-hide,' his medicine bag, hi'; bow and quiver, 
his lance and his pipe, raised aloft on a tripod of three poles. 
Except the dogs, the most active and noisy tenants of the 
camp were the old women, ugly as Macbeth's witches, ° 20 
with their hair streaming loose in the wind, and nothing 
but the tattered fragment of an old buffalo robe to hide their 
shriveled wiry limbs. The day of their favoritism passed 
two generations ago; now the heaviest labors of the camp 
devolved upon them; they were to harness the horses, 25 
pitch the lodges, dress the buffalo robes, and bring in meat 
for the hunters. With the cracked voices of these hags, 
the clamor of dogs, the shouting and laughing of children 
and girls, and the listless tranquillit}' of the warriors, the 
whole scene had an effect too lively and picturesque ever 30 
to be forgotten. 

We stopped not far from the Indian camp, and ha\ang 
invited some of the chiefs and warriors to dinner, placed 
before them a sumptuous repast of biscuit and coffee. 
Squatted in a half circle on the ground, they soon disposed 35 
of it. As we rode foru-ard on the afternoon journey, several 
of our late guests accompanied us. Among the rest was a 
huge bloated savage of more than three hundred pounds' 
weight, christened Le Cochon, in consideration of his pre- 
posterous dimensions and certain corresponding traits of 40 
his character. The Hog bestrode a little white pon}', 



84 THE OREGON TRAIL 

scarce able to bear up under the enormous burden, though, 
by way of keeping up the necessary stimulus, the rider kept 
both feet in constant motion, playing alternately against 
his ribs. The old man was not a chief ; he had never had am- 
5 bition enough to become one ; he was not a warrior nor a 
hunter, for he was too fat and lazy : but he was the richest 
man in the whole village. Riches among the Dahcotahs 
consist in horses, and of these The Hog had accumulated 
more than thirty. He had already ten times as many as 

lo he wanted, yet still his appetite for horses was insatiable. 
Trotting up to me he shook me by the hand, and gave me 
to understand that he was a very devoted friend ; and then 
he began a series of most earnest signs and gesticulations, 
his oily countenance radiant with smiles, and his little eyes 

15 peeping out with a cunning twinkle from between the masses 

of flesh that almost obscured them. Knowing nothing at 

that time of the sign language of the Indians, I could only 

guess at his meaning. So I called on Henry to explain it. 

The Hog, it seems, was anxious to conclude a matrimo- 

20 nial bargain. He said he had a very prettj^ daughter in 
his lodge, whom he would give me, if I would give him my 
horse. These flattering overtures I chose to reject; at 
which The Hog, still laughing with undiminished good hu- 
mor, gathered his robe about his shoulders, and rode away. 

25 Where we encamped that night, an arm of the Platte ran 
between high bluffs; it was turbid and swift as heretofore, 
but trees were growing on its crumbling banks, and there 
was a nook of grass between the water and the hill. Just 
before entering this place, we saw the emigrants encamping 

30 at two or three miles' distance on the right ; while the whole 
Indian rabble were pouring down the neighboring hill in 
hope of the same sort of entertainment which they had ex- 
perienced from us. In the savage landscape before our 
camp, nothing but the rushing of the Platte broke the 

35 silence. Through the ragged boughs of the trees, dilapidated 
and half dead, we saw the sun setting in crimson behind the 
peaks of the Black hills ;° the restless bosom of the river was 
suff"used with red; our white tent was tinged with it, and 
the sterile bluffs, up to the rocks that crowned them, par- 

40 took of the same fiery hue. It soon passed avvay; no light 
remained, but that from our fire, blazing high among the 



TAKING FRENCH LEAVE 85 

dusky trees and bushes. We lay around it wrapped in our 
blankets, smoking and conversing until a late hour, and then 
withdrew to our tent. 

We crossed a sun-scorched plain on the next morning; 
the line of old cotton-wood trees that fringed the bank of 5 
the Platte forming its extreme verge. Nestled apparently 
close beneath them, we could discern in the distance some- 
thing like a building. As we came nearer, it assumed 
form and dimensions, and proved to be a rough structure 
of logs. It was a little trading fort, belonging to two 10 
private traders; and originally intended, like all the forts 
of the country, to form a hollow square, with rooms for 
lodging and storage opening upon the area within. Only 
two sides of it had been completed ; the place was now as 
ill-fitted for the purposes of defense as any of those little 15 
log-houses, which upon our constantly shifting frontier 
have been so often successfully maintained against over- 
whelming odds of Indians. Two lodges were pitched 
close to the fort; the sun beat scorching upon the logs; 
no living thing was stirring except one old squaw, who 20 
thrust her round head from the opening of the nearest 
lodge, and three or four stout young pups, who were peep- 
ing with looks of eager inquiry from under the covering. 
In a moment a door opened, and a little, swarthy black- 
eyed Frenchman came out. His dress was rather singular; 25 
his black curling hair was parted in the middle of his head, 
and fell below his shoulders ; he wore a tight frock of smoked 
deerskin, very gayly ornamented with figures worked in 
dyed porcupine quills. His moccasins and leggings were 
also gaudily adorned in the same manner; and the latter 30 
had in addition a line of long fringes, reaching down the 
seams. The small frame of Richard, for by this name Henry 
made him known to us, was in the highest degree athletic 
and vigorous. There was no superfluity, and indeed there 
seldom is among the active white men of this country, but 35 
every limb was compact and hard; every sinew had its 
full tone and elasticity, and the whole man wore an air of 
mingled hardihood and buoyancy. 

Richard committed our horses to a Navaho slave, a mean- 
looking fellow taken prisoner on the Mexican frontier ; 40 
and, relieving us of our rifles with ready politeness, led the 



86 THE OREGON TRAIL 

way into the principal apartment of his estabhshment. 
This was a room ten feet square. The walls and floor were 
of black mud, and the roof of rough timber; there was 
a huge fireplace made of four flat rocks, picked up on the 
5 prairie. An Indian bow and otterskin quiver, several 
gaudy articles of Rocky mountain finery, an Indian medicine 
bag, and a pipe and tobacco pouch, garnished the walls, 
and rifles rested in a corner. There was no furniture ex- 
cept a sort of rough settle covered with buffalo robes, upon 

lo which lolled a tall half-breed, with his hair glued in masses 
upon each temple, and saturated with vermilion. Two 
or three more "mountain-men" sat cross-legged on the floor. 
Their attire was not unlike that of Richard himself; but the 
most striking figure of the group was a naked Indian boy 

15 of sixteen, with a handsome face, and light, active pro- 
portions, who sat in an easy posture in the corner near 
the door. Not one of his limbs m^oved the breadth of a 
hair ; his eye was fixed immovably, not on any person pres- 
ent, but, as it appeared, on the projecting corner of the fire- 

20 place opposite to him. 

On these prairies the custom, of smoking with friends is 
seldom omitted, whether among Indians or whites. The 
pipe, therefore, was taken from the wall, and its great red 
bowl crammed with the tobacco and shongsasha° mixed 

25 in suitable proportions. Then it passed round the circle, 
each man inhaling a few whiffs and handing it to his neigh- 
bor. Having spent half an hour here, we took our leave; 
first inviting our new friends to drink a cup of coffee with 
us at our camp, a mile farther up the river. By this time, 

30 as the reader may conceive, we had grown rather shabby; 
our clothes had burst into rags and tatters; and what was 
worse, we had very little means of renovation. Fort Lara- 
mie was but seven miles before us. Being totally averse to 
appearing in such plight among any society that could boast 

35 an approximation to the civilized, we soon stopped by the 
river to make our toilet in the best way we could. We hung 
up small looking-glasses against the trees and shaved, 
an operation neglected for six weeks; we performed our 
ablutions in the Platte, though the utility of such a proceed- 

40 ing was questionable, the water looking exactly like a cup 
of chocolate, and the banks consisting of the softest and 



TAKING FRENCH LEAVE 87 

richest yellow mud, so that we were obliged, as a preliminary, 
to build a causeway of stout branches and twigs. Having 
also put on radiant moccasins, procured from a squaw of 
Richard's establishment, and made what other improve- 
ments our narrow circumstances allowed, we took our seats 5 
on the grass with a feeling of greatly increased respectability, 
to await the arrival of our guests. They came; the ban- 
quet was concluded, and the pipe smoked. Bidding them 
adieu, we turned our horses' heads toward the fort. 

An hour elapsed. The barren hills closed across our 10 
front, and we could see no farther; until having surmounted 
them, a rapid stream appeared at the foot of the descent, 
running into the Platte ; beyond was a green meadow, dotted 
with bushes, and in the midst of these, at the point where 
the two rivers joined, were the low clay walls of a fort. 15 
This was not Fort Laramie, but another post of less recent 
date, which having sunk before its successful competitor, 
was now deserted and ruinous. A moment after the hills, 
seeming to draw apart as we advanced, disclosed Fort 
Laramie itself, its high bastions and perpendicular walls 20 
of clay crowning an eminence on the left beyond the stream, 
while, behind stretched a line of arid and desolate ridges, 
and behind these again, towering aloft seven thousand feet, 
arose the grim Black hills. 

We tried to ford Laramie creek at a point nearly opposite 25 
the fort, but the stream, swollen with the rains in the moun- 
tains, was too rapid. We passed up along its bank to 
find a better crossing place. Men gathered on the wall to 
look at us. ''There's Bordeaux!" called Henry, his face 
brightening as he recognized his acquaintance; ''him there 30 
with the spyglass; and there's old Vaskiss, and Tucker, 
and May; and, by George! there's Simoneau!" This 
Simoneau was Henry's fast friend, and the only man in the 
country who could rival him in hunting. 

We soon found a ford. Henry led the way, the pony 35 
approaching the bank with a countenance of cool indif- 
ference, bracing his feet and sliding into the stream with 
the most unmoved composure. We followed; the water 
boiled against our saddles, but our horses bore us easily 
through. The unfortunate little mules came near going 40 
down with the current, cart and all ; and we watched them 



88 THE OREGON TRAIL 



with some solicitude scrambling over the loose round stones 
at the bottom, and bracing stoutly against the stream. 
All landed safely at last; we crossed a little plain, descended 
a hollow, and riding up a steep bank found ourselves before 
5 the gateway of Fort Laramie, under the impending block- 
house erected above it to defend the entrance. 



CHAPTER IX 



SCENES AT FORT LARAMIE 



Looking back, after the expiration of a year, upon Fort 
Laramie and its inmates, they seem less like a reality than 
like some fanciful picture of the olden time; so different 
was the scene from any which this tamer side of the world 
can present. Tall Indians, enveloped in their white buffalo 5 
robes, were striding across the area or reclining at full length 
on the low roofs of the buildings which inclosed it. Nu- 
merous squaws, gayly bedizened, ° sat grouped in front of 
the apartments they occupied; their mongrel offspring, 
restless and vociferous, rambled in every direction through 10 
the fort; and the trappers, traders, and engages° of the 
establishment were busy at their labor or their amusement. 

We were met at the gate, but by no means cordially 
welcomed. Indeed, we seemed objects of some distrust 
and suspicion until Henry Chatillon explained that we 15 
were not traders, ° and we, in confirmation, handed to the 
bourgeois a letter of introduction from his principals. He 
took it, turned it upside down, and tried hard to read it; 
but his literary attainments not being adequate to the task, 
he applied for relief to the clerk, a sleek, smiling Frenchman, 20 
named Montalon. The letter read, Bordeaux (the bourgeois) 
seemed gradually to awaken to a sense of what was expected 
of him. Though not deficient in hospitable intentions, he 
was wholly unaccustomed to act as master of ceremonies. 
Discarding all formalities of reception, he did not honor us 25 
with a single word, but walked swiftly across the area, while 
we followed in some admiration to a railing and a flight of 
steps opposite the entrance. He signed to us that we had 
better fasten our horses to the railing; then he walked up the 
steps, tramped along a rude balcony, and kicking open a 30 
door displayed a large room, rather more elaborately finished 
than a barn. For furniture it had a rough bedstead, but 

89 



90 THE OREGON TRAIL 

no bed; two chairs, a chest of drawers, a tin pail to hold 
water, and a board to cut tobacco upon. A brass crucifix 
hung on the wall, and close at hand a recent scalp, with hair 
full a yard long, was suspended from a nail. I shall again 
5 have occasion to mention this dismal trophy, its history 
being connected with that of our subsequent proceedings. 

This apartment, the best in Fort Laramie, was that usually 
occupied by the legitimate bourgeois, Papin; in whose ab- 
sence the command devolved upon Bordeaux. The latter, 

lo a stout, bluff little fellow, much inflated by a sense of his 
new authority, began to roar for buffalo robes. These 
being brought and spread upon the floor formed our beds; 
much better ones than we had of late been accustomed to. 
Our arrangements made, we stepped out to the balcony 

15 to take a more leisurely survey of the long-looked-for haven 
at which we had arrived at last. Beneath us was the square 
area surrounded by little rooms, or rather cells, which opened 
upon it. These were devoted to various purposes, but 
served chiefly for the accommodation of the men employed 

20 at the fort, or of the equally numerous squaws, whom they 
were allowed to maintain in it. Opposite to us rose the 
blockhouse above the gateway; it was adorned with a 
figure which even now haunts my memory; a horse at full 
speed, daubed upon the boards with red paint, and exhib- 

25 iting a degree of skill which might rival that displayed by 
the Indians in executing similar designs upon their robes 
and lodges. A busy scene was enacting in the area. The 
wagons of Vaskiss, an old trader, were about to set out for 
a remote post in the mountains, and the Canadians were 

30 going through their preparations with all possible bustle, 
while here and there an Indian stood looking on with im- 
perturbable gravity. 

Fort Laramie is one of the posts established by the Ameri- 
can fur company, who well-nigh monopolize the Indian 

35 trade of this whole region. Here their officials rule with an 
absolute sway; the arm of the United States has little force; 
for when we were there, the extreme outposts of her troops 
were about seven hundred miles to the eastward. The 
little fort is built of bricks dried in the sun, and externally 

40 is of an oblong form, with bastions of clay, in the form of 
ordinary blockhouses, at two of the corners. The walls 



SCENES AT FORT LARAMIE 91 

are about fifteen feet high, and surmounted by a slender 
palisade. ° The roofs of the apartments within, which are 
built close against the walls, serve the purpose of a ban- 
quette. ° Within, the fort is divided by a partition; on 
one side is the square area surrounded by the storerooms, 5 
offices, and apartments of the inmates ; on the other is the 
corral, a narrow place, encompassed by the high clay walls, 
where at night, or in presence of dangerous Indians, the 
horses and mules of the fort are crowded for safe-keeping. 
The main entrance has two gates, with an arched passage 10 
intervening. A little square window, quite high above the 
ground, opens laterally from an adjoining chamber into 
this passage; so that when the inner gate is closed and 
barred, a person without may still hold communication with 
those within through this narrow aperture. This obviates 15 
the necessity of admitting suspicious Indians, for purposes 
of trading, into the body of the fort; for when danger is 
apprehended, the inner gate is shut fast, and all traffic is 
carried on by means of the little window. This precaution, 
though highly necessary at some of the company's posts, 20 
is now seldom resorted to at Fort Laramie; where, though 
men are frecjuently killed in its neighborhood, no apprehen- 
sions' are now entertained of any general designs of hostility 
from the Indians. 

We did not long enjoy our new quarters undisturbed. 25 
The door was silently pushed open, and two eyeballs and 
a visage as black as night looked in upon us; then a red 
arm and shoulder intruded themselves, and a tall Indian, 
gliding in, shook us by the hand, grunted his salutation, and 
sat down on the floor. Others followed, with faces of the 30 
natural hue; and letting fall their heavy robes from their 
shoulders, they took their seats, quite at ease, in a semi- 
circle before us. The pipe was now to be lighted and passed 
round from one to another; and this was the only en- 
tertainment that at present they expected from us. These 35 
visitors were fathers, brothers, or other relatives of the 
squaws in the fort, where they were permitted to remain, 
loitering about in perfect idleness. All those who smoked 
with us were men of standing and repute. Two or three 
others dropped in also; young fellows who neither by their 40 
years nor their exploits were entitled to rank with the old 



92 THE OREGON TRAIL 

men and warriors, and who, abashed in the presence of their 
superiors, stood aloof, never withdrawing their eyes from 
us. Their cheeks were adorned with vermih'on, their ears 
with pendants of shell, and their necks with beads. Never 
5 yet having signahzed themselves as hunters, or performed 
the honorable exploit of killing a man, they were held in 
slight esteem, and were diffident and bashful in proportion. 
Certain formidable inconveniences attended this influx 
of visitors. They were bent on inspecting everything in the 

lo room ; our equipments and our dress alike underwent their 
scrutiny; for though the contrary has been carelessly as- 
serted, few beings have more curiosity than Indians in 
regard to subjects within their ordinary range of thought. 
As to other matters, indeed, they seemed utterly indifferent. 

15 They will not trouble themselves to inquire into what they 
cannot comprehend, but are quite contented to place their 
hands over their mouths in token of wonder, and exclaim 
that it is ''great medicine." With this comprehensive 
solution, an Indian never is at a loss. He never launches 

20 forth into speculation and conjecture; his reason moves 
in its beaten track. His soul is dormant; and no exer- 
tions of the missionaries, Jesuit or Puritan, of the Old 
World or of the New, have as yet availed to rouse it. 

As we were looking, at sunset, from the wall, upon the 

25 wild and desolate plains that surround the fort, we observed 
a cluster of strange objects like scaffolds rising in the dis- 
tance against the red western sky. They bore aloft some 
singular-looking burdens; and at their foot glimmered 
something white like bones. This was the place of sepulture 

30 of some Dahcotah chiefs, whose remains their people are 
fond of placing in the vicinity of the fort, in the hope that 
they may thus be protected from violation at the hands 
of their enemies. Yet it has happened more than once and 
quite recently, that war parties of the Crow Indians, rang- 

35 ing through the country, have thrown the bodies from the 
scaffolds, and broken them to pieces amid the yells of the 
Dahcotahs, who remained pent up in the fort, too few to 
defend the honored relics from insult. The white objects 
upon the ground were buffalo skulls, arranged in the mystic 

40 circle commonly seen at Indian places of sepulture upon the 
prairie. 



SCENES AT FORT LARAMIE 93 

We soon discovered, in the twilight, a band of fifty or 
sixty horses approaching the fort. These were the animals 
belonging to the establishment; who having been sent out 
to feed, under the care of armed guards, in the meadows 
below, were now being driven into the corral for the night. 5 
A little gate opened into this inclosure; by the side of it 
stood one of the guards, an old Canadian, with gray bushy 
eyebrows, and a dragoon pistol stuck into his belt; while 
his comrade, mounted on horseback, his rifle laid across 
the saddle in front of him, and his long hair blowing before 10 
his swarthy face, rode at the rear of the disorderly troop, 
urging them up the ascent. In a moment the narrow corral 
was thronged with the half-wild horses, kicking, biting, and 
crowding restlessly together. 

The discordant jingling of a bell, rung by a Canadian in 15 
the area, summoned us to supper. This sumptuous repast 
was served on a rough table in one of the lower apartments 
of the fort, and consisted of cakes of bread and dried buffalo 
meat — an excellent thing for strengthening the teeth. 
At this meal were seated the bourgeois and superior dignitaries 20 
of the establishment, among whom Henry Chatillon was 
worthily included. No sooner was it finished, than the table 
was spread a second time (the luxury of bread being now, 
however, omitted), for the benefit of certain hunters and 
trappers of an inferior standing ; while the ordinary Cana- 25 
dian engages were regaled on dried meat in one of their 
lodging rooms. By way of illustrating the domestic econ- 
omy of Fort Laramie, it may not be amiss to introduce in 
this place a story current among the men when we were 
there. 30 

There was an old man named Pierre, whose duty it was 
to bring the meat from the storeroom for the men. Old 
Pierre, in the kindness of his heart, used to select the fattest 
and the best pieces for his companions. This did not long 
escape the keen-eyed bourgeois, who was greatly disturbed 35 
at such improvidence, and cast about for some means to 
stop it. At last he hit on a plan that exactly suited him. 
At the side of the meat- room, and separated from it by a 
clay partition, was another apartment, used for the storage 
of furs. It had no other communication with the fort, 40 
except through a square hole in the partition ; and of course 



94 TEE OREGON TRAIL 

it was perfectly dark. One evening the bourgeois, watching 
for a moment when no one observed him, dodged into the 
meat-room, clambered through the hole, and ensconced him- 
self among the furs and buffalo robes. Soon after, old Pierre 
5 came in with his lantern; and, muttering to himself, began 
to pull over the bales of meat, and select the best pieces, as 
usual. But suddenly a hollow and sepulchral voice pro- 
ceeded from the inner apartment : '' Pierre ! Pierre ! Let 
that fat meat alone! Take nothing but lean!" Pierre 

lo dropped his lantern, and bolted out into the fort, screaming, 
in an agony of terror, that the devil was in the storeroom; 
but tripping on the threshold, he pitched over upon the 
gravel, and lay senseless, stunned by the fall. The Cana- 
dians ran out to the rescue. Some lifted the unlucky 

15 Pierre; and others, making an extempore crucifix° out of 
two sticks, were proceeding to attack the devil in his strong- 
hold, when the bourgeois, with a crestfallen countenance, 
appeared at the door. To add to the bourgeois^ mortifica- 
tion, he was obliged to explain the whole stratagem to Pierre, 

20 in order to bring the latter to his senses. 

We were sitting, on the following morning, in the pas- 
sage-way between the gates, conversing with the traders 
Vaskiss and May. These two men, together with our sleek 
friend, the clerk Montalon, were, I believe, the only persons 

25 then in the fort who could read and write. May was telling 
a curious story about the traveler Catlin,° when an ugly, 
diminutive Indian, wretchedly mounted, came up at a 
gallop, and rode past us into the fort. On being questioned, 
he said that Smoke's village was close at hand. Accord- 

3oingly only a few minutes elapsed before the hills beyond the 
river were covered with a disorderly swarm of savages, 
on horseback and on foot. May finished his story; and by 
that time the whole array had descended to Laramie creek, 
and commenced crossing it in a mass. I walked down to the 

35 bank. The stream is wide, and was then between three 
and four feet deep, with a very swift current. For several 
rods the water was alive with dogs, horses, and Indians. 
The long poles used in erecting the lodges are carried by 
the horses, being fastened by the heavier end, two or three 

40 on each side, to a rude sort of pack saddle, while ,the other 
end drags on the ground. About a foot behind the horse, 



SCENES AT FORT LARAMIE 95 

a kind of large basket or pannier is suspended between the 
poles, and firmly lashed in its place. On the back of the 
horse are piled various articles of luggage; the basket also 
is well filled with domestic utensils, or, quite as often, with 
a litter of puppies, a brood of small children, or a super- 5 
annuated old man. Numbers of these curious vehicles, 
called, in the bastard language of the country travaux, 
were now splashing together through the stream. Among 
them swam countless dogs, often burdened with miniature 
travaux; and dashing forward on horseback through the lo 
throng came the superbly formed warriors, the slender 
figure of some lynx-eyed boy clinging fast behind them. 
The women sat perched on the pack saddles, adding not 
a little to the load of the already overburdened horses. 
The confusion was prodigious. The dogs yelled and howled 15 
in chorus ; the puppies in the travaux set up a dismal whine 
as the water invaded their comfortable retreat; the little 
black-eyed children, from one year of age upward, clung 
fast with both hands to the edge of their basket, and looked 
over in alarm at the water rushing so near them, sputtering 20 
and making wry mouths as it splashed against their faces. 
Some of the dogs, encumbered by their load, were carried 
down' by the current, yelping piteously ; and the old squaws 
would rush into the water, seize their favorites by the neck, 
and drag them out. As each horse gained the bank, he 25 
scrambled up as he could. Stray horses and colts came 
among the rest, often breaking away at full speed through 
the crowd, followed by the old hags, screaming after their 
fashion on all occasions of excitement. Buxom young 
sciuaws, blooming in all the charms of vermilion, stood here 30 
and there on the bank, holding aloft their master's lance, 
as a signal to collect the scattered portions of his household. 
In a few moments the crowd melted away; each family, 
with its horses and equipage, filing off to the plain at the 
rear of the fort ; and here, in the space of half an hour, arose 35 
sixty or seventy of their tapering lodges. Their horses were 
feeding by hundreds over the surrounding prairie, and their 
dogs were roaming everywhere. The fort was full of men, 
and the children were whooping and yelling incessantly 
under the walls. 40 

These newcomers were> scarcely arrived, when Bordeaux 



96 THE OREGON TRAIL 

was running across the fort, shouting to his squaw to bring 
him his spy-glass. The obedient Marie, the very model of 
a squaw, produced the instrument, and Bordeaux hurried 
with it up to the wall. Pointing it to the eastward, he ex- 
5 claimed, with an oath, that the families were coming. 
But a few moments elapsed before the heavy caravan of 
the emigrant wagons could be seen, steadily advancing from 
the hills. They gained the river, and without turning or 
pausing plunged in; they passed through, and slowly as- 

lo cending the opposing bank, kept directly on their way past 
the fort and the Indian village, until, gaining a spot a quarter 
of a mile distant, they wheeled into a circle. For some time 
our tranquillity was undisturbed. The emigrants were 
preparing their encampment; but no sooner was this ac- 

15 complished than Fort Laramie was fairly taken by storm. 
A crowd of broad-brimmed hats, thin visages, and staring 
eyes appeared suddenly at the gate. Tall awkward men, in 
brown homespun; women with cadaverous faces and long 
lank figures, came thronging in together, and, as if inspired 

20 by the very demon of curiosity, ransacked every nook and 
corner of the fort. Dismayed at this invasion, we withdrew 
in all speed to our chamber, vainly hoping that it might 
prove an inviolable sanctuary. The emigrants prosecuted 
their investigations with untiring vigor. They penetrated 

25 the rooms or rather dens, inhabited by the astonished 
squaws. They explored the apartments of the men, and 
even that of Marie and the bourgeois. At last a numerous 
deputation appeared at our door, but were immediately 
expelled. Being totally devoid of any sense of delicacy 

30 or propriety, they seemed resolved to search every mystery 
to the bottom. 

Having at length satisfied their curiosity, they next 
proceeded to business. The men occupied themselves in 
procuring supplies for their onward journey; either buying 

35 them with money or giving in exchange superfluous articles 
of their own. 

The emigrants felt a violent prejudice against the French 
Indians, as they called the trappers and traders. The}'- 
thought, and with some justice, that these men bore them 

40 no good will. Many of them were firmly persuaded that 
the French were instigating the Indians to attack and cut 



SCENES AT FORT LARAMIE 97 

them off. On visiting the encampment we were at once 
struck with the extraordinary perplexity and indecision 
that prevailed among the emigrants. They seemed like 
men totally out of their elements ; bewildered and amazed, 
like a troop of school-boys lost in the woods. It was im- 5 
possible to be long among them without being conscious 
of the high and bold spirit with which most of them were 
animated. But the forest is the home of the backwoodsman. 
On the remote prairie he is totally at a loss. He differs 
as much from the genuine "mountain-man," the wild prairie lo 
hunter, as a Canadian voyageur, paddling his canoe on the 
rapids of the Ottawa, differs from an American sailor among 
the storms of Cape Horn. Still my companion and I were 
somewhat at a loss to account for this perturbed state of 
mind. It could not be cowardice; these men were of the 15 
same stock with the volunteers of Monterey and Buena 
Vista. ° Yet, for the most part, they were the rudest and 
most ignorant of the frontier population; they knew 
absolutely nothing of the country and its inhabitants ; they 
had already experienced much misfortune, and apprehended 20 
more; they had seen nothing of mankind, and had never 
put their own resources to the test. 

A full proportion of suspicion fell upon us. Being 
strangers we were looked upon as enemies. Having oc- 
casion for a supply of lead and a few other necessary articles, 25 
we used to go over to the emigrant camps to obtain them. 
After some hesitation, some dubious glances, and fumbling 
of the hands in the pockets, the terms would be agreed upon, 
the price tendered, and the emigrant would go off to bring 
the article in question. After waiting until our patience 30 
gave out, we would go in search of him, and find him seated 
on the tongue of his wagon. 

"Well, stranger," he would observe, as he saw us ap- 
proach, "I reckon I won't trade !" 

Some friend of his had followed him from the scene of 35 
the bargain, and suggested in his ear, that clearly we meant 
to cheat him, and he had better have nothing to do with us. 

This timorous mood of the emigrants was doubly un- 
fortunate, as it exposed them to real danger. Assume, 
in the presence of Indians, a bold bearing, self-confident 40 
yet vigilant, and you will find them tolerably safe neigh- 



98 THE OREGON TRAIL 

bors. But your safety depends on the respect and fear you 
are able to inspire. If you betray timidity or indecision, 
you convert them from that moment into insidious and 
dangerous enemies. The Dahcotahs saw clearly enough 
5 the perturbation of the emigrants, and instantly availed 
themselves of it. They became extremely insolent and 
exacting in their demands. It has become an established 
custom with them to go to the camp of every party, as it 
arrives in succession at the fort, and demand a feast. 

lo Smoke's village had come with this express design, having 
made several days' journey with no other object than that 
of enjoying a cup of coffee and two or three biscuits. So 
the "feast" was demanded, and the emigrants dared not 
refuse it. 

IS One evening, about sunset, the village was deserted. 
We met old men, warriors, squaws, and children in gay 
attire, trooping off to the encampment, with faces of an- 
ticipation; and, arriving here, they seated themselves in 
a semicircle. Smoke occupied the center, with his w^arriors 

20 on either hand ; the young men and boys next succeeded, 
and the squaws and children formed the horns of the cres- 
cent. The biscuit and coffee were most promptly dis- 
patched, the emigrants staring open-mouthed at their 
savage guests. With each new emigrant party that ar- 

25 rived at Fort Laramie this scene was renewed ; and every 
day the Indians grew more rapacious and presumptuous. 
One evening they broke to pieces, out of mere wantonness, 
the cups from which they had been feasted; and this so 
exasperated the emigrants that many of them seized their 

30 rifles and could scarcely be restrained from firing on the 
insolent mob of Indians. Before we left the country this 
dangerous spirit on the part of the Dahcotahs had mounted 
to a yet higher pitch. They began openly to threaten the 
emigrants with destruction, and actually fired upon one or 

35 two parties of whites. A military force and military law 
are urgently called for in that perilous region; and unless 
troops are speedily stationed at Fort Laramie, or elsewhere 
in the neighborhood, both the emigrants and other travelers 
will be exposed to most imminent risks. 

40 The Ogallallahs, the Brules and other western bands of 
the Dahcotahs, are thorough savages, unchanged by any 



SCENES AT FORT LARAMIE 99 

contact with civilization. Not one of them can speak a 
European tongue, or has ever visited an American settle- 
ment. Until within a year or two, when the emigrants 
began to pass through their country on the way to Oregon, 
they had seen no whites except the handful employed about 5 
the fur company's posts. They esteemed them a wise 
people, inferior only to themselves, living in leather lodges, 
like their own, and subsisting on buffalo. But when the 
swarm of Meneaska, with their oxen and wagons, l^egan to 
invade them, their astonishment was unbounded. They 10 
could scarcely believe that the earth contained such a 
multitude of white men. Their wonder is now giving way 
to indignation : and the result, unless vigilantly guarded 
against, may be lamentable in the extreme. 

But to glance at the interior of a lodge. Shaw and I 15 
used often to visit them. Indeed we spent most of our 
evenings in the Indian village; Shaw's assumption of the 
medical character giving us a fair pretext. As a sample 
of the rest I will describe one of these visits. The sun had 
just set, and the horses were driven into the corral. The 20 
Prairie Cock, a noted beau, came in at the gate with a 
bevy of young girls, with whom he began a dance in the 
area,' leading them round and round in a circle, while he 
jerked up from his chest a succession of monotonous sounds, 
to which they kept time in a rueful chant. Outside the 25 
gate boys and young men were idly frolicking; and close 
by, looking grimly upon them, stood a warrior in his robe, 
with his face painted jet-black, in token that he had lately 
taken a Pawnee scalp. Passing these, the tall dark lodges 
rose between us and the red western sky. We repaired at 30 
once to the lodge of Old Smoke himself. It was by no means 
better than the others; indeed, it was rather shabby; 
for in this democratic community the chief never assumes 
superior state. Smoke sat cross-legged on a buffalo robe, 
and his grunt of salutation as we entered was unusually 35 
cordial, out of respect no doubt to Shaw's medical character. 
Seated around the lodge were several squaws, and an abun- 
dance of children. The complaint of Shaw's patients was, 
for the most part, a severe inflammation of the eyes, oc- 
casioned by exposure to the sun, a species of disorder which 40 
he treated with some success. He had brought with him a 



100 THE OREGON TRAIL 

■ homeopathic medicine chest, and was, I presume, the 
first who introduced that harmless system of treatment 
among the Ogallallahs. No sooner had a robe been spread 
at the head of the lodge for our accommodation, and we 
5 had seated ourselves upon it, than a patient made her ap- 
pearance: the chief's daughter herself, who, to do her 
justice, was the best-looking girl in the village. Being 
on excellent terms with the physician, she placed herself 
readily under his hands, and submitted with a good grace 

lo to his applications, laughing in his face during the whole 
process, for a squaw hardly knows how to smile. This 
case dispatched, another of a different kind succeeded. 
A hideous, emaciated old woman sat in the darkest corner 
of the lodge rocking to and fro with pain and hiding her eyes 

15 from the light by pressing the palms of both hands against 
her face. At Smoke's command, she came forward, very 
unwillingly, and exhibited a pair of eyes that had nearly 
disappeared from excess of inflammation. No sooner had 
the doctor fastened his gripe upon her than she set up a dis- 

20 mal moaning, and writhed so in his grasp that he lost all 
patience, but being resolved to carry his point, he succeeded 
at last in applying his favorite remedies. 

"It is strange," he said, when the operation was finished, 
"that I forgot to bring any Spanish flies ° with me; we must 

25 have something here to answer for a counter-irritant !" 

So, in the absence of better, he seized upon a red-hot 
brand from the fire, and clapped it against the temple of 
the old squaw, who set up an unearthly howl, at which the 
rest of the family broke out into a laugh. 

30 During these medical operations Smoke's eldest squaw 
entered the lodge, with a sort of stone mallet in her hand. 
I had observed some time before a litter of well-grown 
black puppies, comfortably nestled among some bufl'alo 
robes at one side, but this newcomer speedily disturbed 

35 their enjoyment ; for seizing one of them by the hind paw, 
she dragged him out, and carrying him to the entrance of 
the lodge, hammered him on the head till she killed him. 
Being quite conscious to what this preparation tended, I 
looked through a hole in the back of the lodge to see the 

40 next steps of the process. The squaw, holding the puppy 
by the legs, was swinging him to and fro through the blaze 



SCENES AT FORT LARAMIE 101 



of a fire, until the hair was singed off. This done, she un- 
sheathed her knife and cut him into small pieces, which 
she dropped into a kettle to boil. In a few moments a 
large wooden dish was set before us, filled with this delicate 
preparation. We felt conscious of the honor. A dog-feast 5 
is the greatest compliment a Dahcotah can offer to his 
guest; and knowing that to refuse eating would be an 
affront, we attacked the little dog and devoured him before 
the eyes of his unconscious parent. Smoke in the meantime 
was preparing his great pipe. It was lighted when we had lo 
finished our repast, and we passed it from one to another 
till the bowl was empty. This done, we took our leave 
without further ceremony, knocked at the gate of the fort, 
and after making ourselves known were admitted. 

One morning, about a week after reaching Fort Lara- 15 
mie, we were holding our customary Indian levee, when a 
bustle in the area below announced a new arrival ; and look- 
ing down from our balcony, I saw a familiar red beard and 
mustache in the gateway. They belonged to the captain, 
who with his party had just crossed the stream. We met 20 
him on the stairs as he came up, and congratulated him on 
the safe arrival of himself and his devoted companions. 
But he remembered our treachery, and was grave and dig- 
nified accordingly; a tendency which increased as he ob- 
served on our part a disposition to laugh at him. After 25 
remaining an hour or two at the fort he rode away with his 
friends, and we have heard nothing of him since. As for 
R., he kept carefully aloof. It was but too evident that we 
had the unhappiness to have forfeited the kind regards of 
our London fellow-traveler. 30 



CHAPTER X 

THE WAR PARTIES 

The summer of 1846 was a season of much warlike excite- 
ment among all the western bands of the Dahcotahs. In 
1845 they encountered great reverses. Many war parties 
had been sent out ; some' of them had been totally cut oflF, 
5 and others had returned broken and disheartened, so that 
the whole nation was in mourning. Among the rest, ten 
warriors had gone to the Snake country, led by the son of 
a prominent Ogallallah chief, called The Whirlwind. In 
passing over Laramie plains they encountered a superior 

lo number of their enemies, were surrounded, and killed to a 
man. Having performed this exploit the Snakes became 
alarmed, dreading the resentment of the Dahcotahs, and 
they hastened therefore to signify their wish for peace by 
sending the scalp of the slain partisan, together with a 

IS small parcel of tobacco attached, to his tribesmen and re- 
lations. They had employed old Vaskiss, the trader, as 
their messenger, and the scalp was the same that hung in 
our room at the fort. But The Whirlwind proved inex- 
orable. Though his character hardly corresponds with his 

2o name, he is nevertheless an Indian, and hates the Snakes 
with his whole soul. Long before the scalp arrived he had 
made his preparations for revenge. He sent messengers 
with presents and tobacco to all the Dahcotahs within three 
hundred miles, proposing a grand combination to chastise 

25 the Snakes, and naming a place and time of rendezvous. 
The plan was readily adopted, and at this moment many 
villages, probably embracing in the whole five or six thou- 
sand souls, w^ere slowly creeping over the prairies and tend- 
ing towards the common center at La Bonte's camp, on the 

30 Platte. Here their warlike rites were to be celebrated with 
more than ordinary solemnity, and a thousand warriors, 
as it was said, were to set out for the enemy's country. 

102 



THE WAR PARTIES 103 

The characteristic result of this preparation will appear in 
the sequel. 

I was greatly rejoiced to hear of it. I had come into the 
country almost exclusively with a view of observing the 
Indian character. Having from childhood felt a curiosity 5 
on this subject, and having failed completely to gratify 
it by reading, I resolved to have recourse to observation. 
I wished to satisfy myself with regard to the position of the 
Indians among the races of men; the vices and the virtues 
that have sprung from their innate character and from their 10 
modes of life, their government, their superstitions, and their 
domestic situation. To accomplish my purpose it was 
necessary to live in the midst of them, and become, as it 
were, one of them. I proposed to join a village, and make 
myself an inmate of one of their lodges; and henceforward 15 
this narrative, so far as I am concerned, will be chiefly 
a record of the progress of this design, apparently so easy 
of accomplishment, and the unexpected impediments that 
opposed it. 

We resolved on no account to miss the rendezvous at La 20 
Bonte's camp. Our plan was to leave Deslauriers at the 
fort, in charge of our equipage and the better part of our 
horses, while we took with us nothing but our weapons and 
the worst animals we had. In all probability jealousies and 
quarrels would arise among so many hordes of fierce impul- 25 
sive savages, congregated together under no common head, 
and many of them strangers, from remote prairies and moun- 
tains. We were bound in common prudence to be cautious 
how we excited any feeling of cupidity. This was our plan, 
but unhappily we were not destined to visit La Bonte's 30 
camp in this manner; for one morning a young Indian came 
to the fort and brought us evil tidings. The newcomer was 
a dandy of the first water. His ugly face was painted with 
vermilion; on his head fluttered the tail of a prairie cock 
(a large species of pheasant, not found, as I have heard, 35 
eastward of the Rocky mountains) ; in his ears were hung 
pendants of shell, and a flaming red blanket was wrapped 
around him. He carried a dragoon sword in his hand, 
solely for display, since the knife, the arrow, and the rifle 
are the arbiters of every prairie fight ; but as no one in this 40 
country goes abroad unarmed, the dandy carried a bow 



104 THE OREGON TRAIL 

and arrows in an otter-skin quiver at his "back. In this 
guise, and bestriding his yellow horse with an air of extreme 
dignity, The Horse, for that was his name, rode in at the 
gate, turning neither to the right nor the left, but casting 
5 glances askance at the groups of squaws who, with their 
mongrel progeny, were sitting in the sun before their doors. 
The evil tidings brought by The Horse were of the following 
import: The squaw of Henry Chatillon, a woman with 
whom he had been connected for years by the strongest ties 

lo which in that country exist between the sexes, was danger- 
ously ill. She and her children were in the village of The 
Whirlwind, at the distance of a few days' journey. Henry 
was anxious to see the woman before she died, and provide 
for the safety and support of his children, of whom he was 

15 extremely fond. To have refused him this would have 
been gross inhumanity. We abandoned our plan of joining 
Smoke's village, and of proceeding with it to the rendezvous, 
and determined to meet The Whirlwind, and go in his com- 
pany. 

20 I had been slightly ill for several weeks, but on the third 
night after reaching Fort Laramie a violent pain awoke me, 
and I found myself attacked by the same disorder that 
occasioned such heavy losses to the army on the Rio 
Grande. ° In a day and a half I was reduced to extreme 

25 weakness, so that I could not walk without pain and effort. 
Having within that time taken six grains of opium, v,'ithout 
the least beneficial effect, and having no medical adviser, 
nor any choice of diet, I resolved to throw myself upon 
Providence for recovery, using, without regard to the dis- 

30 order, any portion of strength that might remain to me. So 
on the twentieth of June we set out from Fort Laramie 
to meet The Whirlwind's village. Though aided by the 
high-bowed "mountain saddle," I could scarcely keep my 
seat on horseback. Before we left the fort we hired another 

35 man, a long-haired Canadian, with a face like an owl's, 
contrasting oddly enough with Deslauriers' mercurial coun- 
tenance. This was not the only reinforcement to our 
party. A vagrant Indian trader, named Reynal, joined us, 
together with his squaw Margot, and her two nephews, 

40 our dandy friend, The Horse, and his younger brother. 
The Hail Storm. Thus accompanied, we betook ourselves 



THE WAR PARTIES 105 

to the prairie, leaving the beaten trail, and passing over the 
desolate hills that flank the bottoms of Laramie creek. In 
all, Indians and whites, we counted eight men and one 
woman, 

Reynal, the trader, the image of sleek and selfish com- 5 
placency, carried The Horse's dragoon sword in his hand, 
delighting apparently in this useless parade; for, from 
spending half his life among Indians, he had caught not 
only their habits but their ideas. Margot, a female animal 
of more than two hundred pounds' weight, was couched in 10 
the basket of a travail, such as I have before described; 
besides her ponderous bulk, various domestic utensils were 
attached to the vehicle, and she was leading by a trail-rope 
a packhorse, who carried the covering of Reynal's lodge. 
Deslauriers walked briskly by the side of the cart, and 15 
Raymond came behind, swearing at the spare horses, which 
it was his business to drive. The restless young Indians, 
their quivers at their backs and their bows in their hands, 
galloped over the hills, often starting a wolf or an antelope 
from the thick growth of wild-sage bushes. Shaw and I 20 
were in keeping with the rest of the rude cavalcade, having 
in the absence of other clothing adopted the buckskin attire 
of the trappers. Henry Chatillon rode in advance of the 
whole. Thus we passed hill after hill and hollow after hol- 
low, a country arid, broken, and so parched by the sun that 25 
none of the plants familiar to our more favored soil would 
flourish upon it, though there were multitudes of strange 
medicinal herbs, more especially the absanth,° which cov- 
ered every declivity, and cacti were hanging like reptiles 
at the edges of every ravine. At length we ascended a high 30 
hill, our horses treading upon pebbles of flint, agate, and 
rough jasper, until, gaining the top, we looked down on the 
wild bottoms of Laramie creek, which far below us wound 
like a writhing snake from side to side of the narrow interval, 
amid a growth of shattered cotton-wood and ash trees. 35 
Lines of tall cliffs, white as chalk, shut in this green strip 
of woods and meadow land, into which we descended and 
encamped for the night. In the morning we passed a wide 
grassy plain by the river; there was a grove in front, and 
beneath its shadows the ruins of an old trading fort of logs. 40 
The grove bloomed with myriads of wild roses, with their 



106 THE OREGON TRAIL 

sweet perfume fraught with recollections of home. As 
we emerged from the trees, a rattlesnake, as large as a man's 
arm, and more than four feet long, lay coiled on a rock, 
fiercely rattling and hissing at us; a gray hare, double the 
5 size of those of New England, leaped up from the tall ferns ; 
curlew were screaming over our heads, and a whole host of 
little prairie dogs sat yelping at us at the mouths of their 
burrows on the dry plain beyond. Suddenly an antelope 
leaped up from the wild-sage bushes, gazed eagerly at us, 

lo and then, erecting his white tail, stretched away like a 
greyhound. The two Indian boys found a white wolf, 
as large as a calf, in a hollow, and giving a sharp yell, they 
galloped after him; but the wolf leaped into the stream 
and swam across. Then came the crack of a rifle, the bullet 

15 whistling harmlessly over his head, as he scrambled up the 
steep declivity, rattling down stones and earth into the water 
below. Advancing a little, w^e beheld on the farther bank 
of the stream a spectacle not common even in that region; 
for, emerging from among the trees, a herd of some two hun- 

20 dred elk came out upon the meadow, their antlers clattering 
as they walked forward in a dense throng. Seeing us, they 
broke into a run, rushing across the opening and disap- 
pearing among the trees and scattered groves. On our left 
was a barren prairie, stretching to the horizon ; on our right, 

25 a deep gulf, with Laramie creek at the bottom. We found 
ourselves at length at the edge of a steep descent ; a narrow 
valley, with long rank grass and scattered trees stretching 
before us for a mile or more along the course of the stream. 
Reaching the farther end, we stopped and encamped. 

30 An old huge cotton- wood tree spread its branches horizon- 
tally over our tent. Laramie creek, circling before our 
camp, half inclosed us; it swept along the bottom of a line 
of tall white cliffs that looked down on us from the farther 
bank. There were dense copses on our right; the cliffs, 

35 too, were half hidden by shrubbery, though behind us a 
few cotton-wood trees, dotting the green prairie, alone 
impeded the view, and friend or enemy could be discerned 
in that direction at a mile's distance. Here we resolved to 
remain and aw^ait the arrival of The Whirlwind, who would 

40 certainly pass this way in his progress toward La Bonte's 
camp. To go in search of him was not expedient, both on 



THE WAR PARTIES 107 



account of the broken and impracticable nature of the 
country and the uncertainty of his position and move- 
ments; besides, our horses were ahnost worn out, and I 
was in no condition to travel. We had good grass, good 
water, tolerable fish from the stream, and plenty of smaller 5 
game, such as antelope and deer, though no buffalo. There 
was one little drawback to our satisfaction — a certain ex- 
tensive tract of bushes and dried grass, just behind us, which 
it was by no means advisable to enter, since it sheltered a 
numerous brood of rattlesnakes. Henry Chatillon again lo 
dispatched The Horse to the village, with a message to 
his squaw that she and her relatives should leave the rest 
and push on as rapidly as possible to our camp. 

Our daily routine soon became as regular as that of a 
well-ordered household. The weather-beaten old tree was 15 
in the center; our rifles generally rested against its vast 
trunk, and our saddles were flung on the ground around 
it ; its distorted roots were so twisted as to form one or two 
convenient arm-chairs, where we could sit in the shade and 
read or smoke ; but meal-times became, on the whole, the 20 
most interesting hours of the day, and a bountiful provision 
was made for them. An antelope or a deer usually swung 
from a. stout bough, and haunches were suspended against 
the trunk. That camp is daguerreotyped on my memory; 
the old tree, the white tent, with Shaw sleeping in the shadow 25 
of it, and Reynal's miserable lodge close by the bank of the 
stream. It was a wretched oven-shaped structure, made of 
begrimed and tattered buffalo hides stretched over a frame 
of poles ; one side was open, and at the side of the opening 
hung the powder horn and bullet pouch of the owner, to- 30 
gether with his long red pipe, and a rich quiver of otter-skin, 
with a bow and arrows ; for Reynal, an Indian in most things 
but color, chose to hunt buffalo with these primitive weapons. 
In the darkness of this cavernlike habitation, might be dis- 
cerned Madame Margot, her overgrown bulk stowed away 35 
among her domestic implements, furs, robes, blankets, and 
painted cases of par^ fleche,° in which dried meat is kept. 
Here she sat from sunrise to sunset, a bloated impersona- 
tion of gluttony and laziness, while her affectionate pro- 
prietor was smoking, or begging petty gifts from us, or telling 40 
lies concerning his own achievements, or perchance engaged 



108 THE OREGON TRAIL 

in the more profitable occupation of cooking some prepara- 
tion of prairie delicacies. Reynal was an adept at this 
work; he and Deslauriers have joined forces, and are hard 
at work together over the fire, while Raymond spreads, by 
5 way of tablecloth, a buffalo hide, carefully whitened with 
pipeclay, on the grass before the tent. Here, with ostenta- 
tious display, he arranges the teacups and plates; and then, 
creeping on all fours, Hke a dog, he thrusts his head in at the 
opening of the tent. For a moment we see his round owlish 

10 eyes rolling wildly, as if the idea he came to communicate 
had suddenly escaped him; then collecting his scattered 
thoughts, as if by an effort, he informs us that supper is 
ready, and instantly withdraws. 

When sunset came, and at that hour the wild and deso- 

15 late scene would assume a new aspect, the horses were 
driven in. They had been grazing all day in the neigh- 
boring meadow, but now they were picketed close about the 
camp. As the prairie darkened we sat and conversed 
around the fire, until becoming drowsy we spread our saddles 

20 on the ground, wrapped our blankets around us and lay 
down. We never placed a guard, having by this time 
become too indolent ; but Henry Chatillon folded his loaded 
rifle in the same blanket with himself, observing that he 
always took it to bed with him when he camped in that 

25 place. Henry was too bold a man to use such a precaution 
without good cause. We had a hint now and then that our 
situation was none of the safest; several Crow war parties 
were known to be in the vicinity, and one of them, that 
passed here some time before, had peeled the bark from a 

30 neighboring tree, and engraved upon the white wood certain 
hieroglyphics, to signify that they had invaded the territories 
of their enemies, the Dahcotahs, and set them at defiance. 
One morning a thick mist covered the whole country. 
Shaw and Henry went out to ride, and soon came back with 

35 a startling piece of intelligence ; they had found within rifle- 
shot of our camp the recent trail of about thirty horsemen. 
They could not be whites, and they could not be Dahcotahs, 
since we knew no such parties to be in the neighborhood ; 

\ therefore they must be Crows. Thanks to that friendly 

40 mist, we had escaped a hard battle ; they would inevitably 
have attacked us and our Indian companions had they 



THE WAR PARTIES 109 

seen our camp. Whatever doubts we might have enter- 
tained, were quite removed a day or two after, by two 
or three Dahcotahs, who came to us with an account of hav- 
ing hidden in a ravine on that very morning, from whence 
they ."^aw and counted the Crows; they said that they fol- s 
lowed them, carefully keeping out of sight, as they passed 
up Chugwater°; that here the Crows discovered five dead 
bodies of Dahcotahs, placed according to the national cus- 
tom in trees, and flinging them to the ground, they held their 
guns against them and blew them to atoms. lo 

If our camp were not altogether safe, still it was com- 
fortable enough; at least it was so to Shaw, for I was tor- 
mented with illness and vexed by the delay in the accom- 
plishment of my designs. When a respite in my disorder 
gave me some returning strength, I rode out well-armed 15 
upon the prairie, or bathed with Shaw in the stream, or 
waged a petty warfare with the inhabitants of a neighboring 
prairie-dog village. Around our fire at night we employed 
ourselves in inveighing against the fickleness and incon- 
stancy of Indians, and execrating The Whirlwind and all 20 
his village. At last the thing grew insufferable. 

"To-morrow morning," said I, "I will start for the fort, 
and se'e if I can hear any news there." Late that evening, 
when the fire had sunk low, and all the camp were asleep, 
a. loud cry sounded from the darkness. Henry started up, 25 
recognized the voice, repHed to it, and our dandy friend. 
The Horse, rode in among us, just returned from his mis- 
sion to the village. He coolly picketed his mare, without 
saying a word, sat down by the fire and began to eat, but 
his imperturbable philosophy w^as too much for our patience. 30 
Where was the village ? about fifty miles south of us ; it 
was moving slowly and would not arrive in less than a week ; 
and where was Henry's squaw ? coming as fast as she could 
with Mahto-Tatonka, and the rest of her brothers, but she 
would never reach us, for she was dying, and asking every 35 
moment for Henry. Henry's manly face became clouded 
and downcast ; he said that if we were willing he would 
go in the morning to find her, at which Shaw offered to 
accompany him. 

We saddled our horses at sunrise. Reynal protested 40 
vehemently against being left alonC; with nobody but the 



110 THE OREGON TRAIL 

two Canadians and the young Indians, when enemies 
were in the neighborhood. Disregarding his complaints, 
we left him, and coming to the mouth of Chugwater, sepa- 
rated, Shaw and Henry turning to the right, up the bank 
5 of the stream, while I made for the fort. 

Taking leave for a while of my friend and the unfortunate 
squaw, I will relate by way of episode what I saw and did 
at Fort Laramie. It was not more than eighteen miles 
distant, and I reached it in three hours; a shriveled little 

lo figure, wrapped from head to foot in a dingy white Canadian 
capote, stood in the gateway, holding by a cord of bull's 
hide a shaggy wild horse, which he had lately caught. 
His sharp prominent features, and his little keen snakelike 
eyes, looked out from beneath the shadowy hood of the 

15 capote, which was drawn over his head exactly Hke the cowl 
of a Capuchin friar. ° His face was extremely thin and hke 
an old piece of leather, and his mouth spread from ear to 
ear. Extending his long wiry hand, he welcomed me with 
something more cordial than the ordinary cold salute of an 

20 Indian, for we were excellent friends. He had made an 
exchange of horses to our mutual advantage; and Paul, 
thinking himself well-treated, had declared everywhere 
that the white man had a good heart. He was a Dahcotah 
from the Missouri, a reputed son of the half-breed inter- 

25 preter, Pierre Dorion, so often mentioned in Jrving's 
" Astoria. "° He said that he was going to Richard's trading 
house to sell his horse to some emigrants who were encamped 
there, and asked me to go with him. We forded the stream 
together, Paul dragging his wild charge behind him. As 

30 we passed over the sandy plains beyond, he grew quite com- 
municative. Paul was a cosmopolitan in his way; he had 
been to the settlements of the whites, and visited in peace 
and war most of the tribes within the range of a thousand 
miles. He spoke a jargon of French and another of English, 

35 yet nevertheless he was a thorough Indian; and as he told 
of the bloody deeds of his own people against their enemies, 
his little eye would glitter with a fierce luster. He told how 
the Dahcotahs exterminated a village of the Hohays on 
the Upper Missouri, slaughtering men, women, and children; 

40 and how an overwhelming force of them cut off sixteen of 
th€ brave Delawares, who fought like wolves to the last, 



THE WAR PARTIES 111 



amid the throng of their enemies. He told me also another 
story, which I did not believe until I had heard it confirmed 
from so many independent sources that no room was left 
for doubt. I am tempted to introduce it here. 

Six years ago a fellow named Jim Beckwith, a mongrel 5 
of French, American, and negro blood, was trading for 
the fur company, in a very large village of the Crows. 
Jim Beckwith was last summer at St. Louis. He is a ruffian 
of the first stamp; bloody and treacherous, without honor 
or honesty ; such at least is the character he bears upon the 10 
prairie. Yet in his case all the standard rules of character 
fail, for though he will stab a man in his sleep, he will also 
perform most desperate acts of daring; such, for instance, 
as the following : While he was in the Crow village, a Black- 
foot war party, between thirty and forty in number, came 15 
stealing through the country, killing stragglers and carrying 
off horses. The Crow warriors got upon their trail and 
pressed them so closely that they could not escape, at which 
the Blackfeet, throwing up a semicircular breastwork of 
logs at the foot of a precipice, coolly awaited their approach. 20 
The logs and sticks, piled four or five feet high, protected 
them in front. The Crows might have swept over the breast- 
work -and exterminated their enemies; but though out- 
numbering them tenfold, they did not dream of storming 
the little fortification. Such a proceeding would be al- 25 
together repugnant to their notions of warfare. Whooping 
and yelling, and jumping from side to side like devils in- 
carnate, they showered bullets and arrows upon the logs; 
not a Blackfoot was hurt, but several Crows, in spite of their 
leaping and dodging, were shot down. In this childish 30 
manner the fight went on for an hour or two. Now and then 
a Crow warrior in an ecstasy of valor and vainglory would 
scream forth his war song, boasting himself the bravest and 
greatest of mankind, and grasping his hatchet, would rush 
up and strike it upon the breastwork, and then as he re- 35 
treated to his companions, fall dead under a shower of ar- 
rows; yet no combined attack seemed to be dreamed of. 
The Blackfeet remained secure in their intrenchment. 
At last Jim Beckwith lost patience. 

"You are all fools and old women," he said to the Crows; 40 
" come with me, if any of you are brave enough, and I will 
show you how to fight." 



112 THE OREGON TRAIL 

He threw off his trapper's frock of buckskin and stripped 
himself naked hke the Indians themselves. He left his 
rifle on the ground, and taking in his hand a small light 
hatchet, he ran over the prairie to the right, concealed 
5 by a hollow from the eyes of the Blackfeet. Then climb- 
ing up the rocks, he gained the top of the precipice behind 
them. Forty or fifty young Crow warriors followed him. 
By the cries and whoops that rose from below he knew 
that the Blackfeet were just beneath him; and running 

lo forward, he leaped down the rock into the midist of them. 
As he fell he caught one by the long loose hair and drag- 
ging him down tomahawked him; then grasping another 
by the belt at his waist, he struck him also a stunning 
blow, and gaining his feet, shouted the Crow war-cry. 

15 He swung his hatchet so fiercely around him that the 
astonished Blackfeet bore back and gave him room. He 
might, had he chosen, have leaped over the breastwork 
and escaped; but this was not necessary, for with devilish 
yells the Crow warriors came dropping in quick succession 

20 over the rock among their enemies. The main body of 
the Crows, too, answered the cry from the front, and rushed 
up simultaneously. The convulsive struggle within the 
breastwork was frightful; for an instant the Blackfeet 
fought and yelled like pent-up tigers; but the butchery 

25 was soon complete, and the mangled bodies lay piled up 
together under the precipice. Not a Blackfoot made his 
escape. 

As Paul finished his story we came in sight of Richard's 
fort. It stood in the middle of the plain; a disorderly 

30 crowd of men around it, and an emigrant camp a little in 
front. 

"Now, Paul," said I, "where are your Winnicongew 
lodges?" 

"Not come yet," said Paul, "may be come to-morrow." 

35 Two large villages of a band of Dahcotahs had come three 
hundred miles from the Missouri, to join in the war, and 
they were expected to reach Richard's that morning. 
There was as yet no sign of their approach; so pushing 
through a noisy, drunken crowd, I entered an apartment 

40 of logs and mud, the largest in the fort; it was full of men 
of various races and complexions, all more or less drunk. 



THE WAR PARTIES 113 



A company of California emigrants, it seemed, had made 
the discovery at this late day that they had encumbered 
themselves with too many supplies for their journey. A 
part, therefore, they had thrown away or sold at great loss 
to the traders, but had determined to get rid of their very 5 
copious stock of Missouri whisky, by drinking it on the spot. 
Here were maudlin squaws stretched on piles of buffalo 
robes; squalid Mexicans, armed with bows and arrows; 
Indians sedately drunk ; long-haired Canadians and trappers, 
and American backwoodsmen in brown homespun, the well- 10 
beloved pistol and bowie knife displayed openly at their sides. 
In the middle of the room a tall, lank man, with a dingy 
broadcloth coat, was haranguing the company in the style of 
the stump orator. With one hand he sawed the air, and 
with the other clutched firmly a brown jug of whisky, 15 
which he applied every moment to his lips, forgetting 
that he had drained the contents long ago. Richard for- 
mally introduced me to this personage, who was no less 
a man than Colonel R., once the leader of the party. In- 
stantly the colonel seizing me, in the absence of buttons, 20 
by the leather fringes of my frock, began to define his 
position. His men, he said, had mutinied and deposed 
him ; ' but still he exercised over them the influence of a 
superior mind; in all but the name he was yet their chief. 
As the colonel spoke, I looked round on the wild assem- 25 
blage, and could not help thinking that he was but ill 
qualified to conduct such men across the desert to California. 
Conspicuous among the rest stood three tall young men, 
grandsons of Daniel Boone. They had clearly inherited 
the adventurous character of that prince of pioneers ; but 30 
I saw no signs of the quiet and tranquil spirit that so 
remarkably distinguished him. 

Fearful was the fate that months after overtook some of 
the members of that party. General Kearny, on his late 
return from California, brought in the account how they 35 
were interrupted by the deep snows among the mountains, 
and maddened by cold and hunger fed upon each other's 
flesh! 

I got tired of the confusion. "Come, Paul," said I, 
"we will be off." Paul sat in the sun, under the wall of 40 
the fort. He jumped up, mounted, and we rode toward 



114 THE OREGON TRAIL 

Fort Laramie. When we reached it, a man came out of 
the gate with a pack at his back and a rifle on his shoulder; 
others were gathering about him, shaking him by the 
hand, as if taking leave. I thought it a strange thing that 
5 a man should set out alone and on foot for the prairie. I 
soon got an explanation. Perrault — this, if I recollect 
right, was the Canadian's name — had quarreled with the 
bourgeois, and the fort was too hot to hold him. Bordeaux, 
inflated with his transient authority, had abused him, and 

lo received a blow in return. The men then sprang at each 
other, and grappled in the middle of the fort. Bordeaux 
was down in an instant, at the mercy of the incensed Ca- 
nadian ; had not an old Indian, the brother of his squaw, 
seized hold of his antagonist, he would have fared ill. Per- 

15 rault broke loose from the old Indian, and both the white 
men ran to their rooms for their guns ; but when Bordeaux, 
looking from his door, saw the Canadian, gun in hand, 
standing in the area and calling on him to come out and fight, 
his heart failed him; he chose to remain where he was. 

20 In vain the old Indian, scandalized by his brother-in-law's 
cowardice, called upon him to go upon the prairie and fight 
it out in the white man's manner; and Bordeaux's own 
squaw, equally incensed, screamed to her lord ana master 
that he was a dog and an old woman. It all availed nothing. 

25 Bordeaux's prudence got the better of his valor, and he 
would not stir. Perrault stood showering opprobrious 
epithets at the recent bourgeois. Growing tired of this, he 
made up a pack of dried meat, and slinging it at his back, 
set out alone for Fort Pierre ° on the Missouri, a distance 

30 of three hundred miles, over a desert country full of hostile 
Indians. 

I remained in the fort that night. In the morning, as I 
was coming out from breakfast, conversing with a trader 
named McCluskey, I saw a strange Indian leaning against 

35 the side of the gate. He was a tall, strong man, with heavy 
features. 

"Who is he?" I asked. "That's The Whirlwind," said 
McCluskey. "He is the fellow that made all this stir 
about the war. It's always the way with the Sioux; they 

40 never stop cutting each other's throats; it's all they are 
fit for; instead of sitting in their lodges, and getting robes 



THE WAR PARTIES 115 

to trade with us in the winter. If this war goes on, we'll 
make a poor trade of it next season, I reckon." 

And this was the opinion of all the traders, who were 
vehemently opposed to the war, from the serious injury 
that it must occasion to their interests. The Whirlwind s 
left his village the day before to make a visit to the fort. 
His warlike ardor had abated not a little since he first con- 
ceived the design of avenging his son's death. The long 
and complicated preparations for the expedition were too 
much for his fickle, inconstant disposition. That morn- lo 
ing Bordeaux fastened upon him, made him presents, and 
told him that if he went to war he would destroy his horses 
and kill no buffalo to trade with the white men ; in short, 
that he was a fool to think of such a thing, and had better 
make up his mind to sit quietly in his lodge and smoke his 15 
pipe, like a wise man. The Whirlwind's purpose was 
evidently shaken; he had become tired, like a child, of 
his favorite plan. Bordeaux exultingly predicted that he 
would not go to war. My philanthropy at that time was 
no match for my curiosity, and I was vexed at the possibility 20 
that after all I might lose the rare opportunity of seeing 
the formidable ceremonies of war. The Whirlwind, how- 
ever, -had merely thrown the firebrand; the conflagration 
was become general. All the western bands of the Dah- 
cotahs were bent on war; and as I heard from McCluskey, 25 
six large villages were already gathered on a little stream, 
forty miles distant, and were daily calling to the Great 
Spirit to aid them in their enterprise. McCluskey had 
just left them and represented them as on their way to 
La Bonte's camp, which they would reach in a week, unless 30 
they should learn that there were no buffalo there. I did not 
like this condition, for buffalo this season were rare in the 
neighborhood. There were also the two Minnicongew 
villages that I mentioned before ; but about noon, an Indian 
came from Richard's fort with the news that they were 35 
quarreling, breaking up, and dispersing. So much for 
the whisky of the emigrants ! Finding themselves unable 
to drink the whole, they had sold the residue to these Indians, 
and it needed no prophet to foretell the result; a spark 
dropped into a powder magazine would not have produced 40 
a quicker effect. Instantly the old jealousies and rivalries 



116 THE OREGON TRAIL 

and smothered feuds that exist in an Indian village broke 
out into furious quarrels. They forgot the warlike enter- 
prise that had already brought them three hundred miles 
Ihey seemed like ungoverned children inflamed with the 
5 hercest passions of men. Several of them were stabbed 
m the drunken tumult; and in the morning they scattered 
and moved back toward the Missouri in small parties I 
feared that, after all, the long-projected meeting and the 
ceremonies that were to attend it might never take place, 
'°?u T /• ^^^*^ ^°^^ ^^ admirable an opportunity of seeing 
the Indian under his most fearful and characteristic aspect • 
however, m foregoing this, I should avoid a very fair proba- 
. u7 , ^^^^S plundered and stripped, and, it might be 
stabbed or shot into the bargain. Consohng myself with 
15 this reflection, I prepared to carry the news, such as it was 
to the camp. ' 

I caught my horse, and to my vexation found he had 
lost a shoe and broken his tender white hoof against the 
rocks. Horses are shod at Fort Laramie at the moderate 
20 rate of three dollars a foot; so I tied Hendrick to a beam 
in the corral, and summoned Roubidou, the blacksmith 
Koubidou, with the hoof between his knees, was at work 
with hammer and file, and I was inspecting the process 
when a strange voice addressed me. ' 

25 "Two naore gone under! Well, there is more of us 
left yet. Here's Jean Gras and me oflF to the mountains 
to-morrow. Our turn will come next, I suppose. It's a 
hard life, anyhow ! " 

I looked up and saw a little man, not much more than 
30 hve feet high, but of very square and strong proportions 
In appearance he was particularly dingy; for his old buck- 
skin frock was black and polished with time and grease, 
and his belt, knife, pouch, and powder-horn appeared to 
have seen the roughest service. The first joint of each 
35 foot was entirely gone, having been frozen off several 
winters before, and his moccasins were curtailed in pro- 
portion. His whole appearance and equipment bespoke 
the free trapper." He had a round ruddy face, animated 
with a spirit of carelessness and gayety not at all in ac- 
40 cordance with the words he had just spoken. 

" Two more gone ?" said I ; " what do you mean by that '^ " 



THE WAR PARTIES 117 

"Oh" said he, "the Arapahoes have just killed two of 
us in the mountains. Old ^Bull-Tail has come to tell us^ 
They stabbed one behind his back, and shot the other 
with his own rifle. That's the way we live here ! I mean 
To give up trapping after this year. My squaw say^she 5 
wants a oacing horse and some red ribbons, ill maKe 
Tnoulh beaver^o get them for ^ her, and then I'm done! 
I'll go below and live on a farm. -d^„1oci, i" ^nid 

-Your bones will dry on the prairie, ^o^^^^^J^ •,,?«! to 
another trapper, who was standing by; ^^ « ^I's 
looking fellow, with a face as surly as a bull-dog s. 

Roufeau only laughed, and began to hum a tune and 
shuffle a dance on his stumps ot teet. „ 

"You'll see us, before long, passing up your way, saia ^^ 

'^"WelT-'s^rd I, ''stop and take a cup of coffee with us; " ^ 
and as it was quite late in the afternoon, I prepared to leave 

'''Is'f rod^oui, a train of emigrant wagons was pas^ng 
across the stream. '' Whar are ye gom , stranger ? Thus 20 
I was saluted by two or three voices at^once. 

"About eighteen miles up the creek 

"It's mighty late to be going that far ! Make haste, 
ye'd better%nd keep a bright lookout f^Jt'^.d Fording . . 

I thought the advice too good to be ^^g^f ,*i!^' , ^^^'^L''/ '5 
the stream, I passed at a round trot over the plams be 
vond. But ''the more haste, the worse speed. 1 Pf oved 
the truth of the proverb by the time I reached the hms 
three miles from the fort. The trail was faintly marked 
and riding forward with more rapidity than caution, 11^ t 30 
sight of it. I kept on in a direct line, guided by Laramie 
criek, which I could see at intervals darkly ghseningm 
the evening sun, at the bottom «/ the woody gulf on mj 
right. Half an hour before sunset I canie upon its banks^ 
There was something exciting m t^e wild solitude of the 35 
place. An antelope sprang sudden y ^"^""f.^^^^fJ^Xl 
before me As he leaped gracefully not thirty yards oe 
fore m^orse, I fired and instantly he spun round and 
fell ^uite sure of hirii. I walked my horse toward him, 
el ure?;i^loSg my rifle, when to niy surprise he sprang 
up and trotted rapidly away on three legs into the darli 



lis THE OREGON TRAIL 

recesses of the hills, whither I had no time to follow Ten 
minutes after I was passing along the bottom of a deep 
valley and chancmg to look behind me, I saw in the dim 
light that something was following. Supposing it to be 
5 a wolf, I shd from my seat and sat down behind my horse 
to shoot It; but as it came up, I saw by its motions that 
It was another antelope. It approached within a hundred 
yards arched its graceful neck, and gazed intently. I 
leveled at the white spot on its chest, and was about to fire 
lo when It started off, ran first to one side and then to the other' 
hke a vessel tacking against a wind, and at last stretched 
away at full speed. Then it stopped again, looked curiously 
behind it, and trotted up as before; but not so boldly, for 
It soon paused and stood gazing at me. I fired ; it leaped 
15 upward and fell upon its tracks, Measuring the distance 
1 found It 204 paces. When I stood by his side, the antelope 
turned his expiring eye upward. It was like a beautiful 
woman s, dark and rich. "Fortunate that I am in a hurry " 
thought, I; "I might be troubled with remorse, if I had time 
20 for it. 

Cutting the animal up, not in the most skillful manner, 
1 hung the meat at the back of my saddle, and rode on 
again. The hills (I could not remember one of them) 
closed around me. "It is too late," thought I, "to go 
25 forward. I will stay here to-night, and look for the path 
m the morning." As a last effort, however, I ascended a 
high hill, from which, to my great satisfaction, I could 
see Laramie creek stretching before me, twisting from 
side to side amid ragged patches of timber; and far off, 
30 close beneath the shadows of the trees, the ruins of the 
old trading fort were visible. I reached them at twilight. 
It was far from pleasant, in that uncertain light, to be 
pushing through the dense trees and shrubbery of the 
grove beyond. I hstened anxiously for the foot-fall of 
35 man or beast. Nothing was stirring but one harmless 
brown bird, chirping among the branches. I was glad 
when I gained the open prairie once more, where I could 
see if anything approached. When I came to the mouth 
of Chugwater, it was totally dark. Slackening the reins, 
40 I let my horse take his own course. He trotted on with 
unerring instinct, and by nine o'clock was scrambhng 



THE WAR PARTIES 119 

down the steep descent into the meadows where we were 
encamped. While I was looking in vain for the hght of 
the fire, Hendrick, with keener perceptions, gave a loud 
neigh, which was immediately answered in a shrill note 
from 'the distance. In a moment I was hailed from the 5 
darkness by the voice of Reynal, who had come out, rifle 
in hand, to see who was approaching. 

He, with his squaw, the two Canadians and the Indian 
boys ' were the sole inmates of the camp, Shaw and Henry 
Chatillon being still absent. At noon of the following day lo 
they came back, their horses looking none the better for 
the journey. Henry seemed dejected. The woman was 
dead, and his children must henceforward be exposed, 
without a protector, to the hardships and vicissitudes of 
Indian life. Even in the midst of his grief he had not for- 15 
gotten his attachment to his bourgeois, for he had procured 
among his Indian relatives two beautifully ornamented 
buffalo robes, which he spread on the ground as a present 

to us. . c 1 XV 

Shaw lighted his pipe, and told me m a few words the 20 
history of his journey. When I went to the fort they left 
me, as I mentioned, at the mouth of Chugwater. They 
followed the course of the little stream all day, traversing 
a desolate and barren country. Several times they came 
upon the fresh traces of a large war party — the same, no 25 
doubt, from whom we had so narro\\(ly escaped an attack. 
At an hour before sunset, without encountering a human 
being by the way, they came upon the lodges of the squaw 
and her brothers, who, in compliance with Henry's message, 
had left the Indian village in order to join us at our camp. 30 
The lodges were already pitched, five in number, by the 
side of the stream. The woman lay in one of them, reduced 
to a mere skeleton. For some time she had been unable 
to move or speak. Indeed, nothing had kept her aUve 
but the hope of seeing Henry, to whom she was strongly 35 
and faithfully attached. No sooner did he enter the lodge 
than she revived, and conversed with him the greater part 
of the night. Early in the morning she was lifted into a 
travail, and the whole party set out toward our camp. 
There were but five warriors; the rest were women and 40 
children. The whole were in great alarm at the proximity 



120 THE OREGON TRAIL 

of the Crow war party, who would certainly have destroyed 
them without mercy had they met. They had advanced 
only a mile or two, when they discerned a horseman, far 
oflf, on the edge of the horizon. They all stopped, gathering 
5 together in the greatest anxiety, from which they did not 
recover until long after the horseman disappeared; then 
they set out again. Henry was riding with Shaw a few 
rods in advance of the Indians, when Mahto-Tatonka, a 
younger brother of the woman, hastily called after them, 
lo Turning back, they found all the Indians crowded around 
the travail in which the woman was lying. They reached 
her just in time to hear the death-rattle in her throat. In 
a moment she lay dead in the basket of the vehicle. A 
complete stillness succeeded; then the Indians raised in 
15 concert their cries of lamentation over the corpse, and 
among them Shaw clearly distinguished those strange 
sounds resembhng the word "Halleluyah," which together 
with some other accidental coincidences has given rise 
to the absurd theory that the Indians are descended from 
20 the ten lost tribes of Israel. 

The Indian usage required that Henry, as well as the 
other relatives of the woman, should make valuable pres- 
ents, to be placed by the side of the body at its last resting 
place. Leaving the Indians, he and Shaw set out for the 
25 camp and reached it, as we have seen, by hard pushing, 
at about noon. Having obtained the necessary articles, 
they immediately returned. It was very late and quite 
dark when they again reached the lodges. They were all 
placed in a deep hollow among the dreary hills. Four 
30 of them were just visible through the gloom, but the fifth 
and largest was illuminated by the ruddy blaze of a fire 
within, glowing through the half-transparent covering of 
raw hides. There was a perfect stillness as they approached. 
The lodges seemed without a tenant. Not a living thing 
35 was stirring — there was something awful in the scene. 
They rode up to the entrance of the lodge, and there was 
no sound but the tramp of their horses. A squaw cam.e out 
and took charge of the animals, without speaking a word. 
Entering, they found the lodge crowded with Indians; 
40 a fire was burning in the midst, and the mourners encircled 
it in a triple row. Room was made for the newcomers 



THE WAR PARTIES 



121 



at the head of the lodge, a robe spread for them to sit upon, 
and a pipe lighted and handed to them m perfect silence. 
Thus they passed the greater part of the night. At times 
the fire would subside into a heap of embers, until the dark 
figures seated around it were scarcely visible; then a squaw 5 
would drop upon it a piece of buffalo-fat, and a bright flame, 
instantly springing up, would reveal on a sudden the crowd 
of wild faces, motionless as bronze. The silence continued 
unbroken. It was a relief to Shaw when daylight returned 
and he could escape from this house of mourning. He and 10 
Henry prepared to return homeward ; first, however, they 
placed the presents they had brought near the body of the 
squaw, which, most gaudily attired, remained in a sitting 
posture in one of the lodges. A fine horse was picketed 
not far off, destined to be killed that morning for the service 15 
of her spirit, for the woman was lame, and could not travel 
on foot over the dismal prairies to the villages of the dead. 
Food, too, was provided, and household implements, tor 
her use upon this last journey. ^ _^ 

Henry left her to the care of her relatives, and came 20 
immediately with Shaw to the camp. It was some time 
before he entirely recovered from his dejection. 



CHAPTER XI 

SCENES AT THE CAMP 

Reynal heard guns fired one day, at the distance of a 
mile or two from the camp. He grew nervous instantly. 
Visions of Crow war parties began to haunt his imagina- 
tion; and when we returned (for we were all absent), he 
5 renewed his complaints about being left alone with the 
Canadians and the squaw. The day after, the cause of 
the alarm appeared. Four trappers, one called Moran, 
another Saraphin, and the others nicknamed Rouleau 
and Jean Gras, came to our camp and joined us. They 

lo it was who fired the guns and disturbed the dreams of our 
confederate, Reynal. They soon encamped by our side. 
Their rifles, dingy and battered with hard service, rested 
with ours against the old tree; their strong rude saddles, 
their buffalo robes, their traps, and the few rough and 

15 simple articles of their traveling equipment, were piled 
near our tent. Their mountain horses were turned to 
graze in the meadow among our own ; and the men them- 
selves, no less rough and hardy, used to lie half the day 
in the shade of our tree lolling on the grass, lazily smok- 

20 ing, and telling stories of their adventures ; and I defy the 

annals of chivalry to furnish the record of a life more 

wild and perilous than that of a Rocky mountain trapper. 

With this efl^cient reinforcement the agitation of Rey- 

nal's nerves subsided. He began to conceive a sort of 

25 attachment to our old camping ground ; yet it was time 
to change our quarters, since remaining too long on one 
spot must lead to certain unpleasant results not to be 
borne with unless in a case of dire necessity. The grass 
no longer presented a smooth surface of turf; it was 

30 trampled into mud and clay. So we removed to another 
old tree, larger yet, that grew by the river side at a furlong's 

122 



SCENES AT THE CAMP 123 

distance. Its trunk was full six feet in diameter; on one 
side it was marked by a party of Indians with various 
inexplicable hieroglyphics, commemorating some warlike 
enterprise, and aloft among the branches were the remains 
of a scaffolding, where dead bodies had once been deposited, S 
after the Indian manner. 

"There comes Bull-Bear," said Henry Chatillon, as we 
sat on the grass at dinner. Looking up, we saw several 
horsemen coming over the neighboring hill, and in a moment 
four stately young men rode up and dismounted. One lo 
of them was Bull-Bear, or Mahto-Tatonka, a compound 
name which he inherited from his father, the most power- 
ful chief in the Ogallallah band. One of his brothers and 
two other young men accompanied him. We shook hands 
with the visitors, and when we had finished our meal — 15 
for this is the orthodox manner of entertaining Indians, 
even the best of them — we handed to each a tin cup of 
coffee and a biscuit, at which they ejaculated from the 
bottom of their throats, "How! how!" a monosyllable 
by which an Indian contrives to express half the emotions 20 
that he is susceptible of. Then we lighted the pipe, and 
passed it to them as they squatted on the ground. 

"Where is the village?" 

"There," said Mahto-Tatonka, pointing southward; "it 
will come in two days." 25 

"Will they go to the war?" 

"Yes." 

No man is a philanthropist on the prairie. We wel- 
comed this news most cordially, and congratulated our- 
selves that Bordeaux's interested efforts to divert The 30 
Whirlwind from his congenial vocation of bloodshed had 
failed of success, and that no additional obstacles would 
interpose between us and our plan of repairing to the ren- 
dezvous at La Bonte's camp. 

For that and several succeeding days, Mahto-Tatonka 35 
and his friends remained our guests. They devoured the 
rehcs of our meals; they filled the pipe for us and also 
helped us to smoke it. Sometimes they stretched them- 
selves side by side in the shade, indulging in raillery and 
practical jokes ill becoming the dignity of brave and aspir- 40 
ing warriors, such as two of them in reality were. 



124 THE OREGON TRAIL 

Two days dragged away, and on the morning of the 
third we hoped confidently to see the Indian village. It 
did not come; so we rode out to look for it. In place of 
the eight hundred Indians we expected, we met one soli- 
5 tary savage riding toward us over the prairie, who told 
us that the Indians had changed their plans, and would 
not come within three days; still he persisted that they 
were going to the war. Taking along with us this mes- 
senger of evil tidings, we retraced our footsteps to the camp, 

lo amusing ourselves by the way with execrating Indian in- 
constancy. When we came in sight of our little white 
tent under the big tree, we saw that it no longer stood 
alone. A huge old lodge was erected close by its side, 
discolored by rain and storms, rotted with age, with the 

15 uncouth figures of horses and men, and outstretched hands 
that were painted upon it, well-nigh obUterated. The long 
poles which supported this squahd habitation thrust them- 
selves rakishly out from its pointed top, and over its en- 
trance were suspended a "medicine-pipe" and various 

20 other implements of the magic art. While we were yet 
at a distance, we observed a greatly increased population 
of various colors and dimensions, swarming around our 
quiet encampment. Moran, the trapper, having been ab- 
sent for a day or two, had returned, it seemed, bringing 

25 all his family with him. He had taken to himself a wife 
for whom he had paid the estabhshed price of one horse. 
This looks cheap at first sight, but in truth the purchase 
of a squaw is a transaction which no man should enter into 
without mature deliberation, since it involves not only the 

30 payment of the first price, but the formidable burden of 
feeding and supporting a rapacious horde of the bride's 
relatives, who hold themselves entitled to feed upon the 
indiscreet white man. They gather round like leeches, 
and drain him of all he has. 

35 Moran, like Reynal, had not allied himself to an aristo- 
cratic circle. His relatives occupied but a contemptible 
position in Ogallallah society; for among these wild demo- 
crats of the prairie, as among us, there are virtual dis- 
tinctions of rank and place; though this great advantage 

40 they have over us, that wealth has no part in determin- 
ing such distinctions. Moran's partner was not the most 



SCENES AT THE CAMP 125 

beautiful of her sex, and he had the exceedingly bad taste 
to array her in an old calico gown bought from an emi- 
grant woman, instead of the neat and graceful tunic of 
whitened deerskin worn ordinarily by the squaws. The 
moving spirit of the establishment, in more senses than 5 
one, was a hideous old hag of eighty. Human imagina- 
tion never conceived hobgoblin or witch more ugly than 
she You could count all her ribs through the wrinkles 
of the leathery skin that covered them. Her withered face 
more resembled an old skull than the countenance of a 10 
living being even to the hollow, darkened sockets, at the 
bottom of which glittered her little black eyes. Her arms 
had dwindled away into nothing but whipcord and wire. 
Her hair, half black, half gray, hung in total neglect nearly 
to the ground, and her sole garment consisted of the rem- 15 
nant of a discarded buffalo robe tied round her waist with 
a string of hide. Yet the old squaw's meager anatomy 
was wonderfully strong. She pitched the lodge, packed 
the horses, and did the hardest labor of the camp, l^rom 
morning till night she bustled about the lodge, screaming 20 
like a screech-owl when anything displeased her. Then 
there was her brother, a "medicine-man," or magician 
equally gaunt and sinewy with herself. His mouth spread 
from ear to ear, and his appetite, as we had full occasion 
to learn, was ravenous in proportion. The other inmates 25 
of the lodge were a young bride and bridegroom ; the latter 
one of those idle, good-for-nothing fellows who infest an 
Indian village as well as more civilized communities. ^ He 
was fit neither for hunting nor for war; and one might 
infer as much from the stolid unmeaning expression of his 3° 
face. The happy pair had just entered upon the honey- 
moon. They would stretch a buffalo robe upon poles, so 
as to protect them from the fierce rays of the sun, and spread- 
ing beneath this rough canopy a luxuriant couch of furs, 
would sit affectionately side by side for half the day, though 35 
I could not discover that much conversation passed be- 
tween them. Probably they had nothing to say; for an 
Indian's supply of topics for conversation is far from 
being copious. There were half a dozen children, too, 
playing and whooping about the camp, shooting birds with 40 
little bows and arrows, or making miniature lodges of sticks, 
as children of a different complexion build houses of blocks. 



126 THE OREGON TRAIL 

A day passed, and Indians began rapidly to come in. 
Parties of two or three or more would ride up and silently 
seat themselves on the grass. The fourth day came at 
last, when about noon horsemen suddenly appeared into 
5 view on the summit of the neighboring ridge. They 
descended, and behind them followed a wild procession, 
hurrying in haste and disorder down the hill and over the 
plain below; horses, mules, and dogs, heavily burdened 
travaux, mounted warriors, squaws walking amid the throng, 

lo and a host of children. For a full half-hour they continued 
to pour down; and keeping directl}'' to the bend of the 
stream, within a furlong of us, they soon assembled there, 
a dark and confused throng, until, as if by magic, 150 tall 
lodges sprung up. On a sudden the lonely plain was trans- 

15 formed into the site of a miniature city. Countless horses 
were soon grazing over the meadows around us, and the 
whole prairie was animated by restless figures careering 
on horseback, or sedately stalking in their lofig white robes. 
The Whirlwind was come at last ! One question yet re- 

20 mained to be answered : " Will he go to the war, in order 

that we, with so respectable an escort, may pass over to 

the somewhat perilous rendezvous at La Bonte's camp?" 

Still this remained in doubt. Characteristic indecision 

perplexed their councils. Indians cannot act in large 

25 bodies. Though their object be of the highest importance, 
they cannot combine to attain it by a series of connected 
efforts. King Philip, Pontiac, and Tecumseh° all felt this 
to their cost. The Ogallallahs once had a war chief who 
could control them; but he was dead, and now they were 

30 left to the sway of their own unsteady impulses. 

This Indian village and its inhabitants will hold a promi- 
nent place in the rest of the narrative, and perhaps it 
may not be amiss to glance for an instant at the savage 
people of which they form a part. The Dahcotahs (I prefer 

35 this national designation to the unmeaning French name, 
Sioux) range over a vast territory, from the river St. Peter 
to the Rocky mountains themselves. They are divided 
into several independent bands, united under no central 
government, and acknowledge no common head. The 

40 same language, usages, and superstitions form the sole 
bond between them. They do not unite even in their wars. 



SCENES AT THE CAMP 127 



The bands of the east fight the Ojibwas on the Upper lakes ; 
those of the west make incessant war upon the Snake Indians 
in the Rocky mountains. As the whole people is divided 
into bands, so each band is divided into villages. Each 
village has a chief, who is honored and obeyed only so s 
far as his personal qualities may command respect and fear. 
Sometimes he is a mere nominal chief; sometimes his 
authority is little short of absolute, and his fame and in- 
fluence reach even beyond his own village; so that the 
whole band to which he belongs is ready to acknowledge lo 
him as their head. This was, a few years since, the case with 
the Ogallallahs. Courage, address, and enterprise may 
raise any warrior to the highest honor, especially if he be 
the son of a former chief, or a member of a numerous family, 
to support him and avenge his quarrels; but when he has 15 
reached the dignity of chief, and the old men and warriors, 
by a peculiar ceremony, have formally installed him, let 
it not be imagined that he assumes any of the outward 
semblances of rank and honor. He knows too well on how 
frail a tenure he holds his station. He must concihate 20 
his uncertain subjects. Many a man in the village lives 
better, owns more squaws and more horses, and goes better 
clad tlian he. Like the Teutonic chiefs of old, he ingratiates 
himself with his young men by making them presents, 
thereby often impoverishing himself. Does he fail in gain- 25 
ing their favor, they will set his authority at naught, and 
may desert him at any moment ; for the usages of his people 
have provided no sanctions by which he may enforce his 
authority. Very seldom does it happen, at least among 
these western bands, that a chief attains too much power, 30 
unless he is the head of a numerous family. Frequently 
the village is principally made up of his relatives and de- 
scendants, and the wandering community assumes much 
of the patriarchal character. A people so loosely united, 
torn, too, with rankling feuds and jealousies, can have 35 
little power or efficiency. 

The western Dahcotahs have no fixed habitations. Hunt- 
ing and fighting, they wander incessantly through sum- 
mer and winter. Some are following the herds of buffalo 
over the waste of prairie ; others are traversing the Black 40 
hills., thronging on horseback and on foot through the 



128 THE OREGON TRAIL 

dark gulfs and somber gorges beneath the vast splintering 
precipices, and emerging at last upon the parks, those 
beautiful but most perilous hunting grounds. The buffalo 
supplies them with almost all the necessaries of hfe; with 
5 habitations, food, clothing, and fuel; with strings for 
their bows, with thread, cordage, and trail-ropes for their 
horses, with coverings for their saddles, with vessels to 
hold water, with boats to cross streams, with glue, and 
with the means of purchasing all that they desire from the 

lo traders. When the buffalo are extinct, they too must 
dwindle away. 

War is the breath of their nostrils. Against most of the 
neighboring tribes they cherish a deadly, rancorous hatred, 
transmitted from father to son, and inflamed by constant 

15 aggression and retaliation. Many times a year, in every 
village, the Great Spirit is called upon, fasts are made, the 
war parade is celebrated, and the warriors go oat by hand- 
fuls at a time against the enemy. This fierce and evil 
spirit awakens their most eager aspirations, and calls forth 

20 their greatest energies. It is chiefly this that saves them 
from lethargy and utter abasement. Without its power- 
ful stimulus they would be like the unwarlike tribes be- 
yond the mountains, who are scattered among the caves 
and rocks like beasts, living on roots and reptiles. These 

25 latter have Httle of humanity except the form ; but the 
proud and ambitious Dahcotah warrior can sometimes boast 
of heroic virtues. It is very seldom that distinction and 
influence are attained among them by any other course 
than that of arms. Their superstition, however, some- 

30 times gives great power to those among them who pretend 
to the character of magicians. Their wild hearts, too, 
can feel the power of oratory, and yield deference to the 
masters of it. 

But to return. Look into our tent, or enter, if you can 

35 bear the stifling smoke and the close atmosphere. There, 
wedged close together, you will see a circle of stout war- 
riors, passing the pipe around, joking, telling stories, and 
making themselves merry, after their fashion. We were 
also infested by little copper-colored naked boys and snake- 

40 eyed girls. They would come up to us, muttering certain 
words, which being interpreted conveyed the concise in- 



SCENIJS AT THE CAMP 129 

vitation, ''Come and eat." Then we would rise, cursing 
the pertinacity of Dahcotah hospitality, which allowed 
scarcely an hour of rest between sun and sun, and to which 
we were bound to do honor, unless we would offend our 
entertainers. This necessity was particularly burden- 5 
some to me, as I was scarcely able to walk, from the effects 
of illness, and was of course poorly qualified to dispose 
of twenty meals a day. Of these sumptuous banquets 
I gave a specimen in a former chapter, where the tragical 
fate of the little dog was chronicled. So bounteous an 10 
entertainment looks like an outgushing of good will; but 
doubtless one-half at least of our kind hosts, had they met 
us alone and unarmed on the prairie, would have robbed 
us of our horses, and perchance have bestowed an arrow 
upon us beside. Trust not an Indian. Let your rifle be 15 
ever in your hand. Wear next your heart the old chivalric 
motto. Semper Paratns.° 

One morning we were summoned to the lodge of an old 
man, in good truth the Nestor of his tribe. We found him 
half sitting, half reclining on a pile of buffalo robes ; his 20 
long hair, jet-black even now, though he had seen some 
eighty winters, hung on either side of his thin features. 
Those most conversant with Indians in their homes will 
scarcely believe me when I affirm that there was dignity 
in his countenance and mien. His gaunt but symmetrical 25 
frame, did not more clearly exhibit the wreck of bygone 
strength, than did his dark, wasted features, still promi- 
nent and commanding, bear the stamp of mental energies, 
I recalled, as I saw him, the eloquent metaphor of the 
Iroquois sachem: "I am an aged hemlock; the winds of 30 
a hundred winters have whistled through my branches, 
and I am dead at the top!" Opposite the patriarch was 
his nephew, the young aspirant Mahto-Tatonka; and 
besides these, there were one or two women in the lodge. 

The old man's story is peculiar, and singularly illus- 35 
trative of a superstitious custom that prevails in full force 
among many of the Indian tribes. He was one of a power- 
ful family, renowned for their warlike exploits. When 
a very young man, he submitted to the singular rite to 
which most of the tribe subject themselves before entering 40 
upon life. He painted his face black; then seeking out 



130 THE OREGON TRAIL 

a cavern in a sequestered part of the Black hills, he lay for 
several days, fasting and praying to the Great Spirit. In 
the dreams and visions produced by his weakened and ex- 
cited state, he fancied, like all Indians, that he saw super- 
5 natural revelations. Again and again, the form of an ante- 
lope appeared before him. The antelope is the graceful 
peace spirit of the Ogallallahs; but seldom is it that such 
a gentle visitor presents itself during the initiatory fasts 
of their young men. The terrible grizzly bear, the divinity 

lo of war, usually appears to fire them with martial ardor 
and thirst for renown. At length the antelope spoke. 
He told the young dreamer that he was not to follow the 
path of war ; that a life of peace and tranquillity was marked 
out for him; that henceforward he was to guide the people 

IS by his counsels and protect them from the evils of their 
own feuds and dissensions. Others were to gain renown 
by fighting the enemy; but greatness of a different kind 
was in store for him. 

The visions beheld during the period of this fast usually 

20 determine the whole course of the dreamer's life, for an 
Indian is bound by iron superstitions. From that time, 
Le Borgne,° which was the only name by which we knew 
him, abandoned all thoughts of war and devoted himself 
to the labors of peace. He told his vision to the people. 

25 They honored his commission and respected him in his 
novel capacity. 

A far different man was his brother, Mahto-Tatonka, 
who had transmitted his names, his features, and many of 
his characteristic qualities, to his son. He was the father 

30 of Henry Chatillon's squaw, a circumstance which proved 
of some advantage to us, as securing for us the friendship 
of a family perhaps the most distinguished and powerful 
in the whole Ogallallah band. Mahto-Tatonka, in his 
rude way, was a hero. No chief could vie with him in 

35 warlike renown, or in power over his people. He had a 
fearless spirit, and a most impetuous and inflexible resolu- 
tion. His will was law. He was politic and sagacious, 
and with true Indian craft he always befriended the whites, 
well knowing that he might thus reap great advantages 

40 for himself and his adherents. When he had resolved on 
any course of conduct, he would pay to the warriors the 



SCENES AT THE CAMP 131 

empty compliment of calling them together to deliberate 
upon it, and when their debates were over, he would 
quietly state his own opinion, which no one ever disputed. 
The consequences of thwarting his imperious will were too 
formidable to be encountered.. Woe to those who incurred 5 
his displeasure ! He would strike them or stab them on 
the spot; and this act, which, if attempted by any other 
chief, would instantly have cost him his life, the awe in- 
spired by his name enabled him to repeat again and again 
with impunity. In a community where, from immemorial 10 
time, no man has acknowledged any law but his own will, 
Mahto-Tatonka, by the force of his dauntless resolution, 
raised himself to power little short of despotic. His haughty 
career came at last to an end. He had a host of enemies 
only waiting for their opportunity of revenge, and our old 15 
friend Smoke, in particular, together with all his kinsmen, 
hated him most cordially. Smoke sat one day in his lodge 
in the midst of his own village, when Mahto-Tatonka en- 
tered it alone, and approaching the dwelling of his enemy, 
called on him in a loud voice to come out, if he were a 20 
man, and fight. Smoke would not move. At this, Mahto- 
Tatonka proclaimed him a coward and an old woman, and 
striding close to the entrance of the lodge, stabbed the chief's 
best horse, which was picketed there. Smoke was daunted, 
and even this insult failed to call him forth. Mahto-Tatonka 25 
moved haughtily away ; all made way for him, but his hour 
of reckoning was near. 

One hot day, five or six years ago, numerous lodges of 
Smoke's kinsmen were gathered around some of the fur 
company's men, who were trading in various articles with 30 
them, whisky among the rest. Mahto-Tatonka. was also 
there with a few of his people. As he lay in his own lodge, 
a fray arose between his adherents and the kinsmen of 
his enemy. The war-whoop was raised, bullets and arrows 
began to fly, and the camp was in confusion. The chief 35 
sprang up, and rushing in a fury from the lodge shouted to 
the combatants on both sides to cease. Instantly — for 
the attack was preconcerted — came the reports of two or 
three guns, and the twanging of a dozen bows, and the 
savage hero, mortally wounded, pitched forward headlong 40 
to the ground. Rouleau was present, and told me the par- 



132 THE OREGON TRAIL 

ticulars. The tumult became general, and was not quelled 
until several had fallen on both sides. When we were in 
the country the feud between the two families was still 
rankling, and not likely soon to cease. 
5 Thus died Mahto-Tatonka, but he left behind him a 
goodly army of descendants, to perpetuate his renown and 
avenge his fate. Besides daughters he had thirty sons, a 
number which need not stagger the credulity of those who 
are best acquainted with Indian usages and practices. 

:o We saw many of them, all marked by the same dark com- 
plexion and the same peculiar cast of features. Of these 
our visitor, young Mahto-Tatonka, was the eldest, and 
some reported him as likely to succeed to his father's honors. 
Though he appeared not more than twenty-one years old, 

15 he had oftener struck the enemy, and stolen more horses 
and more squaws than any young man in the village. 
We of the civilized world are not apt to attach much credit 
to the latter species of exploits; but horse-stealing is well 
known as an avenue to distinction on the prairies, and the 

20 other kind of depredation is esteemed equally meritorious. 
Not that the act can confer fame from its own intrinsic 
merits. Any one can steal a squaw, and if he chooses 
afterward to make an adequate present to her rightful 
proprietor, the easy husband for the most part rests con- 

25 tent, his vengeance falls asleep, and all danger from that 
quarter is averted. Yet this is esteemed but a pitiful and 
mean-spirited transaction. The danger is averted, but the 
glory of the achievement also is lost. Mahto-Tatonka 
proceeded after a more gallant and dashing fashion. Out 

30 of several dozen squaws whom he had stolen, he could 
boast that he had never paid for one, but snapping his 
fingers in the face of the injured husband, had defied the 
extremity of his indignation, and no one yet had dared to 
lay the finger of violence upon him. He was following 

35 close in the footsteps of his father. The young men and 
the young squaws, each in their way, admired him. The 
one would always follow him to war, and he was esteemed 
to have an unrivaled charm in the eyes of the other. Per- 
haps his impunity may excite some wonder. An arrow 

40 shot from a ravine, a stab given in the dark, require no great 
valor, and are especially suited to the Indian genius; 



iiCJ:^N-t:S AT THE CAMP 



133 



but Mahto-Tatonka had a strong protection. Jt was not 
alone his courage and audacious will that enabled him to 
career so dashingly among his compeers. His enemies 
did not forget that he was one of thirty warlike brethren, 
all growing up to manhood. Should they wreak their anger 5 
upon him, many keen eyes would be ever upon them, many 
fierce hearts would thirst for their blood. The avenger 
would dog their footsteps everywhere. To kill Mahto- 
Tatonka would be an act of suicide. . . v. 

Though he found such favor in the eyes of the fair, he 10 
was no dandy. As among us those of highest worth and 
breeding are most simple in manner and attire, so our 
aspiring young friend was indifferent to the gaudy trappings 
and ornaments of his companions. He was content to rest 
his chances of success upon his own warlike merits. He 15 
never arrayed himself in gaudy blanket and glittering neck- 
laces, but left his statue-like form, limbed like an Apollo 
of bronze, to win its way to favor. His voice was singularly 
deep and strong. It sounded from his chest like the deep 
notes of an organ. Yet after all, he was but an Indian. 20 
See him as he lies there in the sun before our tent, kicking 
his heels in the air and cracking jokes with his brother. 
Does he look like a hero ? See him now in the hour of his 
glory, when at sunset the whole village empties itself to 
behold him, for to-morrow their favorite young partisan 25 
goes out against the enemy. His superb headdress is 
adorned with a crest of the war eagle's feathers, nsmg in a 
waving ridge above his brow, and sweeping far behind him. 
His round white shield hangs at his breast, with feathers 
radiating from the center like a star. His quiver is at his 30 
back ; his tall lance in his hand, the iron point flashing 
against the declining sun, while the long scalp-locks of his 
enemies flutter from the shaft. Thus, gorgeous as a cham- 
pion in his panoply, he rides round and round withm the 
great circle of lodges, balancing with a graceful buoyancy 35 
to the free movements of his war horse, while with a sedate 
brow he sings his song to the Great Spirit. Young rival 
warriors look askance at him; vermihon-cheeked girls 
gaze in admiration, boys whoop and scream in a thrih 
of delight, and old women yell forth his name and proclaim 40 
his praises from lodge to lodge. 



134 THE OREGON TRAIL 

Mahto-Tatonka, to come back to him, was the best of 

all our Indian friends. Hour after hour and day after day, 

when swarms of savages of every age, sex, and degree 

beset our camp, he would lie in our tent, his lynx eye ever 

S open to guard our property from pillage. 

The Whirlwind invited us one day to his lodge. The 
feast was finished, and the pipe began to circulate. It was 
a remarkably large and fine one, and I expressed my ad- 
miration of its form and dimensions. 

lo ''If the Meneaska° likes the pipe," asked The Whirlwind, 
"why does he not keep it ?" 

Such a pipe among the Ogallallahs is valued at the price 
of a horse. A princely gift, thinks the reader, and worthy 
of a chieftain and a warrior. The Whirlwind's generosity 

15 rose to no such pitch. He gave me the pipe, confidently 
expecting that I in return should make him a present of 
equal or superior value. This is the implied condition of 
every gift among the Indians as among the Orientals, and 
should it not be complied with the present is usually re- 

20 claimed by the giver. So I arranged upon a gaudy calico 
handkerchief, an assortment of vermilion, tobacco, knives, 
and gunpowder, and summoning the chief to camp, assured 
him of my friendship and begged his acceptance of a slight 
token of it. Ejaculating "How! how!" he folded up the 

25 offerings and withdrew to his lodge. 

Several days passed and we and the Indians remained 
encamped side by side. They could not decide whether 
or not to go to the war. Toward evening, scores of them 
would surround our tent, a picturesque group. Late one 

30 afternoon a party of them mounted on horseback came 
suddenly in sight from behind some clumps of bushes that 
lined the bank of the stream, leading with them a mule, 
on whose back was a wretched negro, sustained in his seat 
only by the high pommel and cantle of the Indian saddle. 

35 His cheeks were withered and shrunken in the hollow of 
his jaws; his eyes were unnaturally dilated, and his lips 
seemed shriveled and drawn back from his teeth like those 
of a corpse. When they brought him up before our tent, 
and lifted him from the saddle, he could not walk or stand, 

40 but he crawled a short distance, and with a look of utter 
misery sat down on the grass. All the children and women 



SCENIC S AT THE CAMP 135 

came pouring out of the lodges round us, and with screams 
and cries made a close circle about him, while he sat support- 
ing himself with his hands, and looking from side to side 
with a vacant stare. The wretch was starving to death ! 
For thirty-three days he had wandered alone on the prairie, 5 
without weapon of any kind; without shoes, moccasins, 
or any other clothing than an old jacket and pantaloons; 
without intelligence and skill to guide his course, or any 
knowledge of the productions of the prairie. All this time 
he had subsisted on crickets and lizards, wild onions, and lo 
three eggs which he found in the nest of a prairie dove. 
He had not seen a human being. Utterly bewildered in the 
boundless, hopeless desert that stretched around him, 
offering to his inexperienced eye no mark by which to direct 
his course, he had walked on in despair till he could walk 15 
no longer, and then crawled on his knees until the bone was 
laid bare. He chose the night for his traveling, lying down 
by day to sleep in the glaring sun, always dreaming, as he 
said, of the broth and corn cake he used to eat under his old 
master's shed in Missouri. Every man in the camp, both 20 
white and red, was astonished at his wonderful escape 
not only from starvation but from the grizzly bears which 
abound in that neighborhood, and the wolves which howled 
around him every night. 

Reynal recognized him the moment the Indians brought 25 
him in. He had run away from his master about a year 
before and joined the party of M. Richard, who was then 
leaving the frontier for the mountains. He had lived with 
Richard ever since, until in the end of May he with Rey- 
nal and several other men went out in search of some 30 
stray horses, when he got separated from the rest in a 
storm, and had never been heard of up to this time. Know- 
ing his inexperience and helplessness, no one dreamed that 
he could still be living. The Indians had found him lying 
exhausted on the ground. - 35 

As he sat there with the Indians gazing silently on him, 
his haggard face and glazed eye were disgusting to look 
upon. Deslauriers made him a bowl of gruel, but he suffered 
it to remain untasted before him. At length he languidly 
raised the spoon to his lips ; again he did so, and again ; 40 
and then his appetite seemed suddenly inflamed into mad- 



136 THE OREGON TRAIL 

ness, for he seized the bowl, swallowed all its contents in a 
few seconds, and eagerly demanded meat. This we refused, 
telling him to wait until morning, but he begged so eagerly 
that we gave him a small piece, which he devoured, tearing 
5 it like a dog. He said he must have more. We told him 
that his life was in danger if he ate so immoderately at first. 
He assented, and said he knew he was a fool to do so, but he 
must have meat. This we absolutely refused, to the great 
indignation of the senseless squaws, who, when we were 

lo not watching him, would slyly bring dried meat and pommes 
blanches, and place them on the ground by his side. Still 
this was not enough for him. When it grew dark he con- 
trived to creep away between the legs of the horses and crawl 
over to the Indian village, about a furlong down the stream. 

15 Here he fed to his heart's content, and was brought back 
again in the morning, when Jean Gras, the trapper, put him 
on horseback and carried him to the fort. He managed 
to survive the effects of his insane greediness, and though 
slightly deranged when we left this part of the countr}^ he 

20 was otherwise in tolerable health, and expressed his firm 
conviction that nothing could ever kill him. 

When the sun was yet an hour high, it was a gay scene 
in the village. The warriors stalked sedately among the 
lodges, or along the margin of the streams, or walked out to 

25 visit the bands of horses that were feeding over the prairie. 
Half the village population deserted the close and heated 
lodges and betook themselves to the water; and here you 
might see boys and girls and young squaws splashing, 
swimming, and diving beneath the afternoon sun, with 

30 merry laughter and screaming. But when the sun was 
just resting above the broken peaks, and the purple moun- 
tains threw their prolonged shadows for miles over the 
prairie; when our grim old tree, lighted by the horizontal 
rays, assumed an aspect of peaceful repose, such as one loves 

35 after scenes of tumult and excitement; and when the whole 
landscape of swelling plains and scattered groves was soft- 
ened into a tranquil beauty, then our encampment presented 
a striking spectacle. Could Salvator Rosa° have transferred 
it to his canvas, it would have added new renown to his 

40 pencil. Savage figures surrounded our tent, with quivers 
at their backs, and guns, lances, or tomahawks in their 



SCENES AT THE CAMP 137 

hands. Some sat on horseback, motionless as equestrian 
statues, their arms crossed on their breasts, their eyes 
fixed in a steady unwavering gaze upon us. Some stood 
erect, wrapped from head to foot in their long white robes 
of buffalo hide. Some sat together on the grass, holding 5 
their shaggy horses by a rope,, with their broad dark busts 
exposed to view as they suffered their robes to fall from their 
shoulders. Others again stood carelessly among the throng, 
with nothing to conceal the matchless symmetry of their 
forms; and I do not exaggerate when I say that only on 10 
the prairie and in the Vatican have I seen such faultless 
models of the human figure. See that warrior standing 
by the tree, towering six feet and a half in stature. Your 
eyes may trace the whole of his graceful and majestic height, 
and discover no defect or blemish. With his free and noble 15 
attitude, with the bow in his hand, and the quiver at his 
back, he might seem, but for his face, the Pythian Apollo 
himself. Such a figure rose before the imagination of West,° 
when on first seeing the Belvidere in the Vatican, he ex- 
claimed, "By God, a Mohawk !" 20 

• When the sky darkened and the stars began to appear; 
when the prairie was involved in gloom and the horses were 
driven in and secured around the camp, the crowd began 
to melt away. Fires gleamed around, duskily revealing 
the rough trappers and the graceful Indians. One of the 25 
families near us would always be gathered about a bright 
blaze, that displayed the shadowy dimensions of their lodge, 
and sent its lights far up among the masses of foliage above, 
gilding the dead and ragged branches. Withered witchlike 
hags flitted around the blaze, and here for hour after hour 30 
sat a circle of children and young girls, laughing and talking, 
their round merry faces glowing in the ruddy light. We 
could hear the monotonous. notes of the drum from the In- 
dian callage, with the chant of the war song, deadened in the 
distance, and the long chorus of quavering yells, where the 35 
war dance was going on in the largest lodge. For several 
nights, too, we could hear wild and mournful cries, rising 
and dying away like the melancholy voice of a wolf. They 
came from the sisters and female relatives of Mahto-Tatonka, 
who were gashing their limbs with knives, and bewailing 40 
the death of Henry Chatillon's squaw. The hour would 
grow late before all retired to rest in- the camp. Then the 



138 THE OREGON TRAIL 

embers of the fires would be glowing dimly, the men would 
be stretched in their blankets on the ground, and nothing 
could be heard but the restless motions of the crowded 
horses. 
5 I recall these scenes with a mixed feeling of pleasure and 
pain. At this time I was so reduced by illness that I could 
seldom walk without reeling like a drunken man, and when 
I rose from my seat upon the ground the landscape suddenly 
grew dim before my eyes, the trees and lodges seemed to 

lo sway to and fro, and the prairie to rise and fall like the 
swells of the ocean. Such a state of things is by no means 
enviable anywhere. In a country where a man's life may 
at any moment depend on the strength of his arm, or it may 
be on the activity of his legs, it is more particularly incon- 

15 venient. Medical assistance of course there was none; 
neither had I the means of pursuing a system of diet ; and 
sleeping on a damp ground, with an occasional drenching 
from a shower, would hardly be recommended as beneficial. 
I sometimes suffered the extremity of exhaustion, and 

20 though at the time I felt no apprehensions of the final 
result, I have since learned that my situation was a critical 
one. 

I tried repose and a very sparing diet. For a long time, 
with exemplary patience, I lounged about the camp, or at 

25 the utmost staggered over to the Indian village, and walked 
faint and dizzy among the lodges. It would not do, and I 
bethought me of starvation. During five days I sustained 
life on one small biscuit a day. At the end of that time I 
was weaker than before, but the disorder seemed shaken in 

30 its stronghold and very gradually I began to resume a less 
rigid diet. 

I used to lie languid and dreamy before our tent and muse 
on the past and the future, and when most overcome with 
lassitude, my eyes turned always toward the distant Black 

35 hills. There is a spirit of energy and vigor in mountains, 
and they impart it to all who approach their presence. At 
that time I did not know how many dark superstitions and 
gloomy legends are associated with those mountains in the 
minds of the Indians, but I felt an eager desire to penetrate 

40 their hidden recesses, to explore the awful chasms and preci- 
pices, the black torrents, the silent forests, that I fancied 
were concealed there. 



CHAPTER XII 

ILL LUCK 

A Canadian came from Fort Laramie, and brought a 
curious piece of intelligence. A trapper, fresh from the 
mountains, had become enamored of a Missouri damsel 
belonging to a family who with other emigrants had been 
for some days encamped in the neighborhood of the fort. 5 
If bravery be the most potent charm to win the favor of the 
fair, then no wooer could be more irresistible than a Rocky 
mountain trapper. In the present instance, the suit was 
not urged in vain. The lovers concerted a scheme, which 
they proceeded to carry into effect with all possible dis- 10 
patch. The emigrant party left the fort, and on the next 
succeeding night but one encamped as usual, and placed a 
guard. A little after midnight the enamored trapper drew 
near, mounted on a strong horse and leading another by the 
bridle.. Fastening both animals to a tree, he stealthily 15 
moved toward the wagons, as if he were approaching a band 
of buffalo. Eluding the vigilance of the guard, who was 
probably half asleep, he met his mistress by appointment 
at the outskirts of the camp, mounted her on his spare horse, 
and made off with her through the darkness. The sequel 20 
of the adventure did not reach our ears, and we never learned 
how the imprudent fair one liked an Indian lodge for a 
dwelling, and a reckless trapper for a bridegroom. 

At length The Whirlwind and his warriors determined to 
move. They had resolved after all their preparations not 25 
to go to the rendezvous at La Bont^'s camp, but to pass 
through the Black hills and spend a few weeks in hunting 
the buffalo on the other side, until they had killed enough 
to furnish them with a stock of provisions and with hides 
to make their lodges for the next season. This done, they 30 
were to send out a small independent war party against the 
enemy. Their final determination left us in some embar- 

139 



140 THE OREGON TRAIL 

rassment. Should we go to La Bonte's camp, it was not 
impossible that the other villages would prove as vacillating 
and indecisive as The Whirlwind's, and that no assembly 
whatever would take place. Our old companion Reynal 
5 had conceived a liking for us, or rather for our biscuit and 
coffee, and for the occasional small presents which we made i 
him. He was very anxious that we should go with the! 
village which he himself intended to accompany. He ' 
declared he was certain that no Indians would meet at the 

lo rendezvous, and said moreover that it would be easy to 
convey our cart and baggage through the Black hills. In 
saying this, he told as usual an egregious falsehood. Neither 
he nor any white man with us had ever seen the difficult 
and obscure defiles through which the Indians intended to 

15 make their way. I passed them afterward, and had much 
ado to force my distressed horse along the narrow ravines, 
and through chasms where daylight could scarcely pene- 
trate. Our cart might as easily have been conveyed over 
the summit of Pike's peak. Anticipating the diflficulties 

20 and uncertainties of an attempt to visit the rendezvous, 
we recalled the old proverb about a bird in the hand, and 
decided to follow the village. 

Both camps, the Indians' and our own, broke up on the 
morning of the first of July. I was so weak that the aid 

25 of a potent auxiliary, a spoonful of whisky swallowed at 
short intervals, alone enabled me to sit my hardy little 
mare Pauline through the short journey of that day. For 
half a mile before us and half a mile behind, the prairie was 
covered far and wide with the moving throng of savages. 

30 The barren, broken plain stretched away to the right and 
left, and far in front rose the gloomy precipitous ridge of the 
Black hills. We pushed forward to the head of the scattered 
column, passing the burdened travaux, the heavily laden 
pack horses, the gaunt old women on foot, the gay young 

35 squaws on horseback, the restless children running among 
the crowd, old men striding along in their white buffalo 
robes, and groups of young warriors mounted on their best 
horses. Henry Chatillon, looking backward over the dis- 
tant prairie, exclaimed suddenly that a horseman was ap- 

40 proaching, and in truth we could just discern a small black 
speck slowly moving over the face of a distant swell, like 



ILL LUCK 141 

a fly creeping on a wall. It rapidly grew larger as it ap- 
proached. 

"White man, I b'lieve," said Henry; "look how he ride ! 
Indian never ride that way. Yes; he got rifle on the saddle 
before him." 5 

The horseman disappeared In a hollow of the prairie, 
but we soon saw him again, and as he came riding at a 
gallop toward us through the crowd of Indians, his long 
hair streaming in the wind behind him, we recognized the 
ruddy face and old buckskin frock of Jean Gras the trapper. lo 
He was just arrived from Fort Laramie, where he had been 
on a visit, and said he had a message for us. A trader 
named Bisonette, one of Henry's friends, was lately come 
from the settlements, and intended to go with a party of 
men to La Bonte's camp, where, as Jean Gras assured us, 15 
ten or twelve villages of Indians would certainly assemble. 
Bisonette desired that we would cross over and meet him 
there, and promised that his men should protect our horses 
and baggage while we went among the Indians. Shaw and 
I stopped our horses and held a council, and in an evil 20 
hour resolved to go. 

For the rest of that day our course and that of the Indians 
was the same. In less than an hour we came to where the 
high barren prairie terminated, sinking down abruptly in 
steep descent; and standing on these heights, we saw below 25 
us a great level meadow, Laramie creek bounded it on the 
left, sweeping along in the shadow of the declivities, and 
passing with its shallow and rapid current just below us. 
We sat on horseback, waiting and looking on, while the whole 
savage array went pouring past us, hurrying down the de- 30 
scent and spreading themselves over the meadow below. 
In a few moments the plain was swarming with the moving 
multitude, some just visible, like specks in the distance, 
others still passing on, pressing down, and fording the stream 
with bustle and confusion. On the edge of the heights sat 35 
half a dozen of the elder warriors, gravely smoking and look- ^ 
ing down with unmoved faces on the wild and striking spec- 
tacle. 

Up went the lodges in a circle on the margin of the stream. 
For the sake of quiet we pitched our tent among some trees 40 
at half a mile's distance. In the afternoon we were in the 



142 THE OREGON TRAIL 

village. The day was a glorious one, and the whole camp 
seemed lively and animated in sympathy. Groups of chil- 
dren and young girls were laughing gayly on the outside 
of the lodges. The shields, the lances, and the bows were 
5 removed from the tall tripods on which they usually hung 
before the dwellings of their owners. The warriors were 
mounting their horses, and one by one riding away over 
the prairie toward the neighboring hills. 

Shaw and I sat on the grass near the lodge of Reynal. 

loAn old woman, with true Indian hospitality, brought a 
bowl of boiled venison and placed it before us. We amused 
ourselves with watching half a dozen young squaws who 
were playing together and chasing each other in and out of 
one of the lodges. Suddenly the wild yell of the war-whoop 

15 came pealing from theliills. A crowd of horsemen appeared, 
rushing down their sides and riding at full speed toward the 
village, each warrior's long hair flying behind him in the 
wind like a ship's streamer. As they approached, the con- 
fused throng assumed a regular order, and entering two 

20 by two, they circled round the area at full gallop, each 
warrior singing his war song as he rode. Some of their 
dresses were splendid. They wore superb crests of feathers 
and close tunics of antelope skins, fringed with the scalp- 
locks of their enemies ; their shields top were often fluttering 

25 with the war eagle's feathers. All had bows and arrows 
at their backs; some carried long lances, and a few were 
armed with guns. The White Shield, their partisan, rode 
in gorgeous attire at their head, mounted on a black-and- 
white horse. Mahto-Tatonka and his brothers took no 

30 part in this parade, for they were in mourning for their 
sister, and were all sitting in their lodges, their bodies be- 
daubed from head to foot with white clay, and a lock of hair 
cut from each of their foreheads. 

The warriors circled three times round the village; and 

35 as each distinguished champion passed, the old women 
would scream out his name in honor of his bravery, and 
to incite the emulation of the younger warriors. Little 
urchins, not two years old, followed the warlike pageant 
with glittering eyes, and looked with eager wonder and 

40 admiration at those whose honors were proclaimed by the 
public voice of the village. Thus early is the lesson of 



ILL LUCK 143 

war instilled into the mind of an Indian, and such are the 
stimulants which excite his thirst for martial renown. 

The procession rode out of the village as it had entered 
it, and in half an hour all the warriors had returned again, 
dropping quietly in, singly or in parties of two or three. 5 

As the sun rose next morning we looked across the 
meadow, and could see the lodges leveled and the Indians 
gathering together in preparation to leave the camp. Their 
course lay to the westward. We turned toward the north 
with our Ihree men, the four trappers following us, with the lo 
Indian family of Moran. We traveled until night. I suffered 
not a little from pain and weakness. We encamped among 
some trees by the side of a little brook, and here during the 
whole of the next day we lay waiting for Bisonette, but no 
Bisonette appeared. Here also two of our trapper friends 15 
-left us, and set out for the Rocky mountains. On the second 
morning, despairing of Bisonette's arrival, we resumed our 
journey, traversing a forlorn and dreary monotony of sun- 
scorched plains, where no living thing appeared save here 
and there an antelope flying before us like the wind. When 20 
noon came we saw an unwonted and most welcome sight; 
a rich and luxuriant growth of trees, marking the course of 
a little stream called Horseshoe creek. We turned gladly 
toward it. There were lofty and spreading trees, standing 
widely asunder, and supporting a thick canopy of leaves, 25 
above a surface of rich, tall grass. The stream ran swiftly, 
as clear as crystal, through the bosom of the wood, sparkling 
over its bed of white sand and darkening again as it entered 
a deep cavern of leaves and boughs. I was thoroughly ex- 
hausted, and flung myself on the ground, scarcely able to move. 30 

In the morning as glorious a sun rose upon us as ever 
animated that desolate wilderness. We advanced and 
soon were surrounded by tall bare hills, overspread from 
top to bottom with prickly-pears and other cacti, that 
seemed like clinging reptiles. A plain, flat and hard, and 35 
with scarcely the vestige of grass, lay before us, and a 
line of tall misshapen trees bounded the onward view. 
There was no sight or sound of man or beast, or any liv- 
ing thing, although behind those trees was the long-looked- 
for place of rendezvous, where we fondly hoped to have 40 
found the Indians congregated by thousands. We looked 



144 THE OREGON TRAIL 

and listened anxiously. We pushed forward with our best 
speed; and forced our horses through the trees. There were 
copses of some extent beyond, with a scanty stream creeping 
through their midst ; and as we pressed through the yielding 
5 branches, deer sprang up to the right and left. At length 
we caught a glimpse of the prairie beyond. Soon we 
emerged upon it, and saw, not a plain covered with encamp- 
ments and swarming with life, but a vast unbroken desert 
stretching away before us league upon league, without a 

lo bush or a tree or anything that had life. We drew rein and 
gave to the winds our sentiments concerning the whole 
aboriginal race of America. Our journey was in vain and 
much worse than in vain. For myself, I was vexed and dis- 
appointed beyond measure; as I well knew that a slight 

15 aggravation of my disorder would render this false step 
irrevocable, and make it quite impossible to accomplish 
effectually the design which had led me an arduous journey 
of between three and four thousand miles. To fortify my- 
self as well as I could against such a contingency, I resolved 

20 that I would not under any circumstances attempt to leave 
the country until my object was completely gained, 

' And where were the Indians ? They were assembled 
in great numbers at a spot about twenty miles distant, and 
there at that very moment they were engaged in their war- 

25 like ceremonies. The scarcity of buffalo in the vicinity 
of La Bonte's camp, which would render their supply of 
provisions scanty and precarious, had probably prevented 
them from assembling there; but of all this we knew nothing 
until some weeks after. 

30 Shaw lashed his horse and galloped forward. I, though 
much more vexed than he, was not strong enough to adopt 
this convenient vent to my feelings; so I followed at a 
quiet pace, but in no quiet mood. We rode up to a soli- 
tary old tree, which seemed the only place fit for encamp- 

35 ment. Half its branches were dead, and the rest were so 
scantily furnished with leaves that they cast but a meager 
and wretched shade, and the old twisted trunk alone fur- 
nished sufficient protection from the sun. We threw down 
our saddles in the strip of shadow that it cast, and sat 

40 down upon them. In silent indignation we remained 
smoking for an hour or more, shifting our saddles with the 
shifting shadow, for the sun was intolerably hot. 



CHAPTER XIII 

HUNTING INDIANS 

At last we had reached La Bonte's camp, toward which 
our eyes had turned so long. Of all weary hours, those that 
passed between noon and sunset of the day when we ar- 
rived there may bear away the palm of exquisite discom- 
fort. I lay under the tree reflecting on what course to s 
pursue, watching the shadows which seemed never to move, 
and the sun which remained fixed in the sky, and hoping 
every moment to see the men and horses of Bisonette emerg- 
ing from the woods. Shaw and Henry had ridden out on a 
scouting expedition, and did not return until the sun was lo 
setting. There was nothing very cheering in their faces 
nor in the news they brought. 

"We, have been ten miles from here," said Shaw. "We 
climbed the highest butte we could find, and could not see 
a buffalo or Indian; nothing but prairie for twenty miles 15 
around us." Henry's horse was quite disabled by clamber- 
ing up and down the sides of ravines, and Shaw's was se- 
verely fatigued. 

After supper that evening, as we sat around the fire, I 
proposed to Shaw to wait one day longer in hopes of Biso- 20 
nette's arrival, and if he should not come to send Deslauriers 
with the cart and baggage back to Fort Laramie, while we 
ourselves followed The Whirlwind's village and attempted 
to overtake it as it passed the mountains. Shaw, not having 
the same motive for hunting Indians that I had, was averse 25 
to the plan; I therefore resolved to go alone. This design 
I adopted very unwillingly, for I knew that in the present 
state of my health the attempt would be extremely un- 
pleasant, and, as I considered, hazardous. I hoped that 
Bisonette would appear in the course of the following day, 30 
and bring us some information by which to direct our 
L 145 



146 THE OREGON TRAIL 

course, and enable me to accomplish my purpose by means 
less objectionable. 

The rifle of Henry Chatillon was necessary for the sub- 
sistence of the party in my absence; so I called Raymond, 
5 and ordered him to prepare to set out with me. Raymond 
rolled his eyes vacantly about, but at length, having suc- 
ceeded in grappling with the idea, he withdrew to his bed 
under the cart. He was a heavy-molded fellow, with a 
broad face exactly like an owl's, expressing the most im- 

lo penetrable stupidity and entire self-confidence. As for his 
good qualities, he had a sort of stubborn fidelity, an insen- 
sibility to danger, and a kind of instinct or sagacity, which 
sometimes led him right, where better heads than his were 
at a loss. Besides this, he knew very well how to handle 

15 a rifle and picket a horse. 

Through the following day the sun glared down upon 
us with a pitiless, penetrating heat. The distant blue 
prairie seemed quivering under it. The lodge of our Indian 
associates was baking in the rays, and our rifles, as they 

20 leaned against the tree, were too hot for the touch. There 
was a dead silence through our camp and all around it, un- 
broken except by the hum of gnats and mosquitoes. The 
men, resting their foreheads on their arms, were sleeping 
under the cart. The Indians kept close within their lodge 

25 except the newly married pair, who were seated together 
under an awning of buff"alo robes, and the old conjurer, who, 
with his hard, emaciated face and gaunt ribs, was perched 
aloft like a turkey-buzzard among the dead branches of an 
old tree, constantly on the lookout for enemies. He would 

30 have made a capital shot. A rifle bullet, skillfully planted, 
would have brought him tumbling to the ground. Surely, 
I thought, there could be no more harm in shooting such 
a hideous old villain, to see how ugly he would look when 
he was dead, than in shooting the detestable vulture which 

35 he resembled. We dined, and then Shaw saddled his horse. 
"I will ride back," said he, "to Horseshoe creek, and see 
if Bisonette is there." 

"I would go with you," I answered, "but I must reserve 
all the strength I have." 

40 The afternoon dragged away at last. I occupied myself 
in cleaning my rifle and pistols, and making other prepa- 



HUNTING INDIANS 147 

rations for the journey. After supper, Henry Chatillon 
and I lay by the fire, discussing the properties of that ad- 
mirable weapon, the rifle, in the use of which he could fairly 
outrival Leatherstocking° himself. 

It was late before I wrapped myself in my blanket and 5 
lay down for the night, with my head on my saddle. Shaw 
had not returned, but this gave us no uneasiness, for we pre- 
sumed that he had fallen in with Bisonette, and was spend- 
ing the night with him. For a day or two past I had gained 
in strength and health, but about midnight an attack of 10 
pain awoke me, and for some hours I felt no inclination to 
sleep. The moon was quivering on the broad breast of the 
Platte; nothing could be heard except those low inexpli- 
cable sounds, like whisperings and footsteps, which no one 
who has spent the night alone amid deserts and forests will 15 
be at a loss to understand. As I was falling asleep, a famil- 
iar voice, shouting from the distance, awoke me again. A 
rapid step approached the camp, and Shaw on foot, with 
his gun in his hand, hastily entered. 

"Where's your horse?" said I, raising myself on my 20 
elbow. 

" Lost ! " said Shaw. " Where's Deslauriers ? " 

" There," I replied, pointing to a confused mass of blankets 
and buffalo robes. 

Shaw touched them with the butt of his gun, and up 25 
sprang our faithful Canadian. 

"Come, Deslauriers; stir up the fire, and get me some- 
thing to eat." 

"Where's Bisonette?" asked I. 

"The Lord knows; there's nobody at Horseshoe creek." 30 

Shaw had gone back to the spot where we had encamped 
two days before, and finding nothing there but the ashes 
of our fires, he had tied his horse to the tree while he bathed 
in the stream. Something startled his horse, who broke 
loose, and for two hours Shaw tried in vain to catch him. 35 
Sunset approached, and it was twelve miles to camp. So 
he abandoned the attempt, and set out on foot to join us. 
The greater part of his perilous and solitary work was per- 
formed in darkness. His moccasins were worn to tatters 
and his feet severely lacerated. He sat down to eat, how- 40 
ever, with the usual equanimity of his temper not at all 



148 THE OREGON TRAIL 

disturbed by his misfortune, and my last recollection before 
falling asleep was of Shaw, seated cross-legged before the fire, 
smoking his pipe. The horse, I may as well mention here, 
was found the next morning by Henry Chatillon. 
5 ^ When I awoke again there was a fresh damp smell in the 
air, a gray twilight involved the prairie, and above its 
eastern verge was a streak of cold red sky. I called to the 
men, and in a moment a fire was blazing brightly in the dim 
morning light, and breakfast was getting ready. We 

lo sat down together on the grass, to the last civilized meal 
which Raymond and I were destined to enjoy for some time. 
"Now, bring in the horses." 

My little mare Pauline was soon standing by the fire. 
She was a fleet, hardy, and gehtle animal, christened after 

15 Paul Dorion, from whom I had procured her in exchange 
for Pontiac. She did not look as if equipped for a morning 
pleasure ride. In front of the black, high-bowed mountain 
saddle, holsters, with heavy pistols, were fastened. A pair 
of saddle bags, a blanket tightly rolled, a small parcel of 

20 Indian presents tied up in a buffalo skin, a leather bag of 
flour, and a smaller one of tea were all secured behind, and 
a long trail-rope was wound round her neck. Raymond 
had a strong black mule, equipped in a similar manner. 
We crammed our powder-horns to the throat, and mounted. 

25 " I will meet you at Fort Laramie on the first of August," 
said I to Shaw. 

''That is," replied he, "if we don't meet before that. 
I think I shall follow after you in a day or two." 

This in fact he attempted, and he would have succeeded 

30 if he had not encountered obstacles against which his 
resolute spirit was of no avail. Two days after I left him 
he sent Deslauriers to the fort with the cart and baggage, 
and set out for the mountains with Henry Chatillon; but 
a tremendous thunderstorm had deluged the prairie, and 

35 nearly obliterated not only our trail but that of the Indians 
themselves. They followed along the base of the mountains, 
at a loss in which direction to go. They encamped there, 
and in the morning Shaw found himself poisoned by ivy 
in such a manner that it was impossible for him to travel. 

40 So they turned back reluctantly toward Fort Laramie. 
Shaw's limbs were swollen to double their usual size, and 



HUNTING INDIANS 149 

he rode in great pain. They encamped again within twenty- 
miles of the fort, and reached it early on the following morn- 
ing. Shaw lay seriously ill for a week, and remained at the 
fort till I rejoined him some time after. 

To return to my own story. We shook hands with our 5 
friends, rode out upon the prairie, and clambering the sandy 
hollows that were channeled in the sides of the hills, gained 
the high plains above. If a curse had been pronounced upon 
the land, it could not have worn an aspect of more dreary 
and forlorn barrenness. There were abrupt broken hills, 10 
deep hollows, and wide plains; but all alike glared with an 
insupportable whiteness under the burning sun. The coun- 
try, as if parched by the heat, had cracked into innumerable 
fissures and ravines, that not a little impeded our progress. 
Their steep sides were white and raw, and along the bottom 15 
we several times discovered the broad tracks of the terrific 
grizzlj' bear, nowhere more abundant than in this region. 
The ridges of the hills were hard as rock, and strewn with 
pebbles of flint and coarse red jasper; looking from them, 
there was nothing to relieve the desert uniformity of the 20 
prospect, save here and there a pine tree clinging at the edge 
of a ravine, and stretching over its rough, shaggy arms. 
Under the scorching heat these melancholy trees diffused 
their peculiar resinous odor through the sultry air. There 
was something in it, as I approached them, that recalled 25 
old associations; the pine-clad mountains of New England, 
traversed in days of health and buoyancy, rose like a real- 
ity before my fancy. In passing that arid waste I was 
goaded with a morbid thirst produced by my disorder, 
and I thought with a longing desire on the crystal treasure 30 
poured in such wasteful profusion from our thousand hills. 
Shutting my eyes, I more than half believed that I heard 
the deep plunging and gurgling of waters in the bowels of 
the shaded rocks. I could see their dark icy glittering far 
down amid the crevices, and the cold drops trickling from 35 
the long green mosses. 

When noon came, we found a little stream, with a few 
trees and bushes; and here we rested for an hour. Then 
we traveled on, guided by the sun, until, just before sunset, 
we reached another stream, called Bitter Cotton-wood 40 
creek. A thick growth of bushes and old storm-beaten 



150 THE OREGON TRAIL 

trees grew at intervals along its bank. Near the foot of 
one of the trees we flung down our saddles, and hobbling 
our horses turned them loose to feed. The little stream 
was clear and swift, and ran musically on its white sands. 
5 Small water birds were splashing in the shallows, and filling 
the air with their cries and flutterings. The sun was just 
sinking among gold and crimson clouds behind Mount 
Laramie. ° I well remember how I lay upon a log by the 
margin of the water, and watched the restless motions of the 

lo little fish in a deep still nook below. Strange to say, I 
seemed to have gained strength since the morning, and 
almost felt a sense of returning health. 

We built our fire. Night came, and the wolves began to 
howl. One deep voice commenced, and it was answered 

15 in awful responses from the hills, the plains, and the woods 
along the stream above and below us. Such sounds need 
not and do not disturb one's sleep upon the prairie. We 
picketed the mare and the mule close at our feet, and did 
not awake until daylight. Then we turned them loose, 

20 still hobbled, to feed for an hour before starting. We were 
getting ready our morning's meal, when Raymond saw an 
antelope at half a mile's distance, and said he would go and 
shoot it. 

"Your business," said I, "is to look after the animals. 

25 I am too weak to do much, if anything happens to them, 
and you must keep within sight of the camp." 

Raymond promised, and set out with his rifle in his hand. 
The animals had passed across the stream, and were feed- 
ing among the long grass on the other side, much tormented 

30 by the attacks of the numerous large green-headed flies. 
As I watched them, I saw them go down into a hollow, and 
as several minutes elapsed without their reappearing, I 
waded through the stream to look after them. To my 
vexation and alarm I discovered them at a great distance, 

35 galloping away at full speed, Pauline in advance, with her 
hobbles broken, and the mule, still fettered, following with 
awkward leaps. I fired my rifle and shouted to recall Ray- 
mond. In a moment he came running through the stream, 
with a red handkerchief bound round his head. I pointed 

40 to the fugitives, and ordered him to pursue them. Mut- 
tering a "*Sacre/"° between his teeth, he set out at full 



HUNTING INDIANS 151 

speed, still swinging his rifle in his hand. I walked up to 
the top of a hill, and looking away over the prairie, could just 
distinguish the runaways, still at full gallop. Returning to 
the fire, I sat down at the foot of a tree. Wearily and anx- 
iously hour after hour passed away. The old loose bark 5 
dangling from the trunk behind me flapped to and fro in 
the wind, and the mosquitoes kept up their incessant drowsy 
humming; but other than this, there was no sight nor sound 
of life throughout the burning landscape. The sun rose 
higher and higher, until the shadows fell almost perpen- 10 
dicularly, and I knew that it must be noon. It seemed 
scarcely possible that the animals could be recovered. If 
they were not, my situation was one of serious difl^culty. 
Shaw, when I left him, had decided to move that morning, 
but whither he had not determined. To look for him would 15 
be a vain attempt. Fort Laramie was forty miles distant, 
and I could not walk a mile without great eft^ort. Not 
then having learned the sound philosophy of yielding to dis- 
proportionate obstacles, I resolved to continue in any event 
the pursuit of the Indians. Only one plan occurred to me; 20 
this was to send Raymond to the fort with an order for more 
horses, while I remained on the spot, awaiting his return, 
which -might take place within three days. But the adop- 
tion of this resolution did not wholly allay my anxiety, 
for it involved both uncertainty and danger. To remain 25 
stationary and alone for three days, in a country full of 
dangerous Indians, was not the most flattering of prospects ; 
and protracted as my Indian hunt must be by such delay, 
it was not easy to foretell its result. Revolving these 
matters, I grew hungry ; and as our stock of provisions, 30 
except four or five pounds of flour, was by this time ex- 
hausted, I left the camp to see what game I could find. 
Nothing could be seen except four or five large curlew, 
which, with their loud screaming, were wheeling over my 
head, and now and then alighting upon the prairie. I shot 35 
two of them, and was about returning, when a startling sight 
caught my eye. A small, dark object, like a human head, 
suddenly appeared, and vanished among the thick bushes 
along the stream below. In that country every stranger 
is a suspected enemy. Instinctively I threw forward the 40 
muzzle of my rifle. In a moment the bushes were violently 



152 THE OREGON TRAIL 

shaken, two heads, but not human heads, protruded, and 
to my great joy I recognized the downcast, disconsolate 
countenance of the black mule and the yellow visage of 
Pauline. Raymond came upon the mule, pale and haggard, 
5 complaining of a fiery pain in his chest. I took charge of 
the animals while he kneeled down by the side of the stream 
to drink. He had kept the runaways in sight as far as the 
Side fork of Laramie creek, a distance of more than ten 
miles; and here with great difficulty he had succeeded in 

lo catching them. I saw that he was unarmed, and asked him 
what he had done with his rifle. It had encumbered him 
in his pursuit, and he had dropped it on the prairie, think- 
ing that he could find it on his return; but in this he had 
failed. The loss might prove a very formidable one. I 

15 was too much rejoiced however at the recovery of the animals 
to think much about it ; and having made some t6a for Ray- 
mond in a tin vessel which we had brought with us, I told 
him that I would give him two hours for resting before we 
set out again. He had eaten nothing that day ; but having 

20 no appetite, he lay down immediately to sleep. I picketed 
the animals among the richest grass that I could find, and 
made fires of green wood to protect them from the flies; 
then sitting down again by the tree, I watched the slow 
movements of the sun, begrudging every moment that 

25 passed. 

The time I had mentioned expired, and I awoke Ray- 
mond. We saddled and set out again, but first we went 
in search of the lost rifle, and in the course of an hour 
Raymond was fortunate enough to find it. Then we turned 

30 westward, and moved over the hills and hollows at a slow 
pace toward the Black hills. The heat no longer tormented 
us, for a cloud was before the sun. Yet that day shall never 
be marked with white in my calendar. The air began to 
grow fresh and cool, the distant mountains frowned more 

35 gloomily, there was a low muttering of thunder, and dense 
black masses of cloud rose heavily behind the broken peaks. 
At first they were gayly fringed with silver by the afternoon 
sun, but soon the thick blackness overspread the whole sky. 
and the desert around us was wrapped in deep gloom. I 

40 scarcely heeded it at the time, but now I cannot but feel 
that there was an awful sublimity in the hoarse murmuring 



HUNTING INDIANS 153 

of the thunder, in the somber shadows that involved the 
mountains and the plain. The storm broke. It came upon 
us with a zigzag blinding flash, with a terrific crash of thunder, 
and with a hurricane that howled over the prairie, dashing 
floods of water against us. Raymond looked round, and 5 
cursed the merciless elementR. There seemed no shelter 
near, but we discerned at length a deep ravine gashed in the 
level prairie, and saw halfway down its side an old pine 
tree, whose rough horizontal boughs formed a sort of pent- 
house against the tempest. We found a practicable pas- 10 
sage, and hastily descending, fastened our animals to some 
large loose stones at the bottom; then climbing up, we drew 
our blankets over our heads, and seated ourselves close 
beneath the old tree. Perhaps I was no competent judge of 
time, but it seemed to me that we were sitting there a full 15 
hour, while around us poured a deluge of rain, through which 
the rocks on the opposite side of the gulf were barely visible. 
The first burst of the tempest soon subsided, but the rain 
poured steadily. At length Raymond grew impatient, and 
scrambling out of the ravine, he gained the level prairie 20 
above. 

"What does the weather look like?" asked I, from my 
seat under the tree. 

"It looks bad," he answered; "dark all around," and 
again he descended and sat down by my side. Some ten 25 
minutes elapsed. 

"Go up again," said I, "and take another look;" and he 
clambered up the precipice. " Well, how is it ?" 

" Just the same, only I see one little bright spot over the 
top of the mountain." 30 

The rain by this time had begun to abate; and going 
down to the bottom of the ravine, we loosened the animals, 
who were standing up to their knees in water. Leading 
them up the rocky throat of the ravine, we reached the plain 
above. All around us was obscurity; but the bright spot 35 
above the mountain-tops grew wider and ruddier, until at 
length the clouds drew apart, and a flood of sunbeams poured 
down from heaven, streaming along the precipices, and 
involving them in a thin blue haze, as soft and lovely as 
that which wraps the Apennines on an evening in spring. 40 
Rapidly the clouds were broken and scattered, like routed 



154 THE OREGON TRAIL 

legions of evil spirits. The plain lay basking in sunbeams 
around us; a rainbow arched the desert from north to 
south, and far in front a line of woods seemed inviting us 
to refreshment and repose. When we reached them, they 
5 were glistening with prismatic dewdrops, and enlivened 
by the song and flutterings of a hundred birds. Strange 
winged insects, benumbed by the rain, were clinging to 
the leaves and the bark of the trees. 

Raymond kindled a fire with great difficulty. The 

lo animals turned eagerly to feed on the soft rich grass, while 
I, wrapping myself in my blanket, lay down and gazed 
on the evening landscape. The mountains, whose stern 
features had lowered upon us with so gloomy and awful a 
frown, now seemed lighted up with a serene, benignant 

IS smile, and the green waving undulations of the plain were 
gladdened with the rich sunshine. Wet, ill, and wearied 
as I was, my spirit grew lighter at the view, and I drew 
from it an augury of good. 

When morning came, Raymond awoke, coughing vio- 

20 lently, though I had apparently received no injury. We 
mounted, crossed the little stream, pushed through the 
trees, and began our journey over the plain beyond. And 
now, as we rode slowly along, we looked anxiously on every 
hand for traces of the Indians, not doubting that the vil- 

25 lage had passed somewhere in that vicinity; but the scanty 
shriveled grass was not more than three or four inches high, 
and the ground was of such unyielding hardness that a host 
might have marched over it and left scarcely a trace of its 
passage. Up hill and down hill, and clambering through 

30 ravines, we continued our journey. As we were skirting the 
foot of a hill I saw Raymond, who was some rods in advance, 
suddenly jerking the reins of his mule. Sliding from his 
seat, and running in a crouching posture up a hollow, he 
disappeared ; and then in an instant I heard the sharp quick 

35 crack of his rifle. A wounded antelope came running on 
three legs over the hill. I lashed Pauline and made after 
him. My fleet little mare soon brought me by his side, 
and after leaping and bounding for a few moments in vain, 
he stood still, as if despairing of escape. His glistening eyes 

40 turned up toward my face with so piteous a look that it 
was with feelings of infinite compunction that I shot him 



I 



HUNTING INDIANS 155 

through the head with a pistol. Raymond skinned and cut 
him up, and we hung the forequarters to our saddles, much 
rejoiced that our exhausted stock of provisions was renewed 
in such good time. 

Gaining the top of a hill, we could see along the cloudy 5 
verge of the prairie before us lines of trees and shadowy 
groves that marked the course of Laramie creek. Some 
time before noon we reached its banks and began anxiously 
to search them for footprints of the Indians. We followed 
the stream for several miles, now on the shore and now 10 
wading in the water, scrutinizing every sand-bar and every 
muddy bank. So long was the search that we began to 
fear that we had left the trail undiscovered behind us. At 
length I heard Raymond shouting, and saw him jump 
from his mule to examine some object under the shelving 15 
bank. I rode up to his side. It was the clear and palpable 
impression of an Indian moccasin. Encouraged by this we 
continued our search, and at last some appearances on a soft 
surface of earth not far from the shore attracted my eye; 
and going to examine them I found half a dozen tracks, 20 
some made by men and some by children. Just then Ray- 
mond observed across the stream the mouth of a small 
branch entering it from the south. He forded the water, 
rode in at the opening, and in a moment I heard him shout- 
ing again, so I passed over and joined him. The little 25 
branch had a broad sandy bed, along which the water 
trickled in a scanty stream ; and on either bank the bushes 
were so close that the view was completely intercepted. 
I found Raymond stooping over the footprints of three or 
four horses. Proceeding we found those of a man, then those 30 
of a child, then those of more horses; and at last the bushes 
on each bank were beaten down and broken, and the sand 
plowed up with a multitude of footsteps, and scored across 
with the furrows made by the lodge-poles that had been 
dragged through. It was now certain that we had found 35 
the trail. I pushed through the bushes, and at a little dis- 
tance on the prairie beyond found the ashes of a hundred 
and fifty lodge fires, with bones and pieces of buffalo robes 
scattered around them, and in some instances the pickets 
to which horses had been secured still standing in the ground. 40 
Elated by our success we selected a convenient tree, and 



156 THE OREGON TRAIL 

turning the animals loose, prepared to make a meal from 
the fat haunch of our victim. 

Hardship and exposure had thriven with me wonder- 
fully. I had gained both health and strength since leav- 
5 ing La Bonte's camp. Raymond and I made a hearty 
meal together in high spirits, for we rashly presumed that 
having found one end of the trail we should have little 
difficulty in reaching the other. But when the animals 
were led in we found that our old ill luck had not ceased to 

lo follow us close. As I was saddling Pauline I saw that her 
eye was as dull as lead, and the hue of her yellow coat visi- 
bly darkened. I placed my foot in the stirrup to mount, 
when instantly she staggered and fell flat on her side. 
Gaining her feet with an effort she stood by the fire with a 

15 drooping head. Whether she had been bitten by a snake 
or poisoned by some noxious plant or attacked by a sudden 
disorder, it was hard to say ; but at all events her sickness 
was sufficiently ill-timed and unfortunate. I succeeded in 
a second attempt to mount her, and with a slow pace we 

20 moved forward on the trail of the Indians. It led us up a 
hill and over a dreary plain; and here, to our great morti- 
fication, the traces almost disappeared, for the ground was 
hard as adamant ; and if its flinty surface had ever retained 
the dint of a hoof, the marks had been washed away by the 

25 deluge of yesterday. An Indian village, in its disorderly 
march, is scattered over the prairie, often to the width of 
full half a mile; so that its trail is nowhere clearly marked, 
and the task of following it is made doubly wearisome and 
difficult. By good fortune plenty of large ant-hills, a yard 

30 or more in diameter, were scattered over the plain, and these 
were frequently broken by the footprints of men and horses, 
and marked by traces of the lodge-poles. The succulent 
leaves of the prickly-pear, also bruised from the same causes, 
helped a little to guide us ; so inch by inch we moved along. 

35 Often we lost the trail altogether, and then would recover 
it again, but late in the afternoon we found ourselves totally 
at fault. We stood alone without a clew to guide us. The 
broken plain expanded for league after league around us, and 
in front the long dark ridge of mountains was stretching 

40 from north to south. Mount Laramie, a little on our right, 
towered high above the rest and from a dark valley just 



HUNTING INDIANS 157 

beyond one of its lower declivities, we discerned volumes 
of white smoke slowly rolling up into the clear air. 

"I think," said Raymond, ''some Indians must be there. 
Perhaps we had better go." But this plan was not rashly 
to be adopted, and we determined still to continue our search 5 
after the lost trail. Our good stars prompted us to this 
decision, for we afterward had reason to believe, from in- 
formation given us by the Indians, that the smoke was 
raised as a decoy by a Crow war party. 

Evening was coming on, and there was no wood or water 10 
nearer than the foot of the mountains. So thither we 
turned, directing our course toward the point where Lara- 
mie creek issues forth upon the prairie. When we reached 
it the bare tops of the mountains were still brightened with 
sunshine. The little river was breaking with a vehement 15 
and angry current from its dark prison. There was some- 
thing in the near vicinity of the mountains, in the loud surg- 
ing of the rapids, wonderfully cheering and exhilarating; 
for although once as familiar as home itself, they had been 
for months strangers to my experience. There was a rich 20 
grass-plot by the river's bank, surrounded by low ridges, 
which would effectually screen ourselves and our fire from 
the sight of wandering Indians. Here among the grass 
I observed numerous circles of large stones, which, as Ray- 
mond said, were traces of a Dahcotah winter encampment. 25 
We lay down and did not awake till the sun was up. A large 
rock projected from the shore, and behind it the deep water 
was slowly eddying round and round. The temptation was 
irresistible. I threw off my clothes, leaped in, suffered myself 
to be borne once round with the current, and then, seizing 30 
the strong root of a water-plant, drew myself to the shore. 
The effect was so invigorating and refreshing that I mis- 
took it for returning health. "Pauline," thought I, as I 
led the little mare up to be saddled, " only thrive as I do, 
and you and I will have sport yet among the buffalo be- 35 
yond these mountains." But scarcely were we mounted 
and on our way before the momentary glow passed. 
Again I hung as usual in my seat, scarcely able to hold 
myself erect. 

"■ Look yonder," said Raymond ; " you see that big hollow 40 
there ; the Indians must have gone that way, if they went 
anywhere about here." 



168 THE OREGON TRAIL 

We reached the gap, which was like a deep notch cut 
into the mountain ridge, and here we soon discerned an 
ant-hill furrowed with the mark of a lodge-pole. This was 
quite enough; there could be no doubt now. As we rode 
5 on, the opening growing narrower, the Indians had been 
compelled to march in closer order, and the traces became 
numerous and distinct. The gap terminated in a rocky- 
gateway, leading into a rough passage upward, between 
two precipitous mountains. Here grass and weeds were 

lo bruised to fragments by the throng that had passed through. 
We moved slowly over the rocks, up the passage; and in 
this toilsome manner we advanced for an hour or two, bare 
precipices, hundreds of feet high, shooting up on either hand. 
Raymond, with his hardy mule, was a few rods before me, 

15 when we came to the foot of an ascent steeper than the rest, 
and which I trusted might prove the highest point of the 
defile. Pauline strained upward for a few yards, moaning 
and stumbling, and then came to a dead stop, unable to 
proceed farther. I dismounted, and attempted to lead her; 

20 but my own exhausted strength soon gave out; so I loosened 
the trail-rope from her neck, and tying it round my arm, 
crawled up on my hands and knees. I gained the top, to- 
tally exhausted, the sweat drops trickling from my forehead „ 
Pauline stood like a statue by my side, her shadow falling 

25 upon the scorching rock; and in this shade, for there was 
no other, I lay for some time, scarcely able to move a limb. 
All around the black crags, sharp as needles at the top, stood 
glowing in the sun, without a tree, or a bush, or a blade of 
grass, to cover their precipitous sides. The whole scene 

30 seemed parched with a pitiless, insufferable heat. 

After a while I could mount again, and we moved on, 
descending the rocky defile on its western side. Thinking 
of that morning's journey, it has sometimes seemed to me 
that there was something ridiculous in my position; a 

35 man, armed to the teeth, but wholly unable to fight, and 
equally so to run away, traversing a dangerous wilderness, 
on a sick horse. But these thoughts were retrospective, for 
at the time I was in too grave a mood to entertain a very 
lively sense of the ludicrous. 

40 Raymond's saddle-girth slipped; and while I proceeded 
he was stopping to repair the mischief. I came to the top 



HUNTING INDIANS 159 

of a little declivity, where a most welcome sight greeted my 
eye; a nook of fresh green grass nestled among the cliffs, 
sunny clumps of bushes on one side, and shaggy old pine- 
trees leaning forward from the rocks on the other. A shrill, 
familiar voice saluted me, and recalled me to days of boy- 5 
hood; that of the insect called the ''locust"° by New Eng- 
land schoolboys, which was fast clinging among the heated 
boughs of the old pine-trees. Then, too, as I passed the 
bushes, the low sound of falling water reached my ear. 
Pauline turned of her own accord, and pushing through the 10 
boughs we found a black rock, overarched by the cool green 
canopy. An icy stream was pouring from its side into a 
wide basin of white sand, from whence it had no visible outlet, 
but filtered through into the soil below. While I filled a tin 
cup at the spring, Pauline was eagerly plunging her head 15 
deep in the pool. Other visitors had been there before us. 
All around in the soft soil were the footprints of elk, deer, 
and the Rocky mountain sheep ; and the grizzly bear too 
had left the recent prints of his broad loot, with its frightful 
array of claws. Among these mountains was his home. 20 

Soon after leaving the spring we found a little grassy 
plain, encircled by the mountains, and marked, to our great 
joy. With all the traces of an Indian camp. Raymond's 
practiced eye detected certain signs by which he recognized 
the spot where Reynal's lodge had been pitched and his 25 
horses picketed. I approached, and stood looking at the 
place. Reynal and I had, I believe, hardly a feeling in 
common. I disliked the fellow, and it perplexed me a good 
deal to understand why I should look with so much interest 
on the ashes of his fire, when between him and me there 30 
seemed no other bond of sympathy than the slender and 
precarious one of a kindred race. 

In half an hour from this we were clear of the mountains. 
There was a plain before us, totally barren and thickly 
peopled in many parts with the little prairie dogs, who sat 35 
at the mouths of their burrows and yelped at us as we passed. 
The plain, as we thought, was about six miles wide; but 
it cost us two hours to cross it. Then another mountain 
range rose before us, grander and more wild than the last 
had been. Far out of the dense shrubbery that clothed the 40 
steeps for a thousand feet shot up black crags, all leaning 



160 THE OREGON TRAIL 

one way, and shattered by storms and thunder into grim 
and threatening shapes. As we entered a narrow passage 
on the trail of the Indians, they impended frightfully on one 
side, above our heads, 
5 Our course was through dense woods, in the shade and 
twinkling sunlight of overhanging boughs. I would I could 
recall to mind all the startling combinations that presented 
themselves, as winding from side to side of the passage, to 
avoid its obstructions, we could see, glancing at intervals 

lo through the foliage, the awful forms of the gigantic cliffs, 
that seemed at times to hem us in on the right and on the 
left, before us and behind ! Another scene in a few moments 
greeted us; a tract of gray and sunny woods, broken into 
knolls and hollows, enlivened by birds and interspersed with 

15 flowers. Among the rest I recognized the mellow whistle of 
the robin, an old familiar friend whom I had scarce expected 
to meet in such a place. Humble-bees too were buzzing 
heavily about the flowers ; and of these a species of larkspur 
caught my eye, more appropriate, it should seem, to culti- 

20 vated gardens than to a remote wilderness. Instantly it 

recalled a multitude of dormant and delightful recollections. 

Leaving behind us this spot and its associations, a sight 

soon presented itself, characteristic of that warlike region. 

In an open space, fenced in by high rocks, stood two Indian 

25 forts, of a square form, rudely built of sticks and logs. 
They were somewhat ruinous, having probably been con- 
structed the year before. Each might have contained about 
twenty men. Perhaps in this gloomy spot some party had 
been beset by their enemies, and those scowling rocks and 

30 blasted trees might not long since have looked down on a 
conflict unchronicled and unknown. Yet if any traces of 
bloodshed remained they were completely hidden by the 
bushes and tall rank weeds. 

Gradually the mountains drew apart, and the passage 

35 expanded into a plain, where again we found traces of an 
Indian encampment. There were trees and bushes just 
before us, and we stopped here for an hour's rest and refresh- 
ment. When we had finished our meal Raymond struck 
fire, and lighting his pipe, sat down at the foot of a tree to 

40 smoke. For some time I observed him puffing away with 
a face of unusual solemnity. Then slov/ly taking the pipe 



HUNTING INDIANS 161 

from his lips, he looked up and remarked that we had better 
not go any farther. 

"Why not?" asked I. 

He said that the country was become very dangerous, 
that we were entering the range of the Snakes, Arapahoes 5 
and Gros-ventre Blackfeet, and that if an}^ of their wan- 
dering parties should meet us, it would cost us our lives; 
but he added, with a blunt fidelity that nearly reconciled 
me to his stupidity, that he would go anywhere I wished. 
I told him to bring up the animals, and mounting them 10 
we proceeded again. I confess that, as we moved forward, 
the prospect seemed but a dreary and doubtful one. I would 
have given the world for my ordinary elasticity of body and 
mind, and for a horse of such strength and spirit as the 
journey required. 15 

Closer and closer the rocks gathered round us, growing 
taller and steeper, and pressing more and more upon our 
path. We entered at length a defile which I never have 
seen rivaled. The mountain was cracked from top to bot- 
tom, and we were creeping along the bottom of the fissure, 20 
in dampness and gloom, with the clink of hoofs on the loose 
shingly rocks, and the hoarse murmuring of a petulant brook 
which- kept us company. Sometimes the water, foaming 
among the stones, overspread the whole narrow passage; 
sometimes, withdrawing to one side, it gave us room to 25 
pass dry-shod. Looking up, we could see a narrow ribbon 
of bright blue sky between the dark edges of the opposing 
cliff's. This did not last long. The passage soon widened, 
and sunbeams found their way down, flashing upon the black 
waters. The defile would spread out to many rods in width ; 30 
bushes, trees, and flowers would spring by the side of the 
brook; the cliffs would be feathered with shrubbery, that 
clung in every crevice, and fringed with trees, that grew 
along their sunny edges. Then we would be moving again in 
the darkness. The passage seemed about four miles long, 35 
and before we reached the end of it, the unshod hoofs of our 
animals were lamentably broken, and their legs cut by the 
sharp stones. Issuing from the mountain we found another 
plain. All around it stood a circle of lofty precipices, that 
seemed the impersonation of silence and solitude. Here 40 
again the Indians had encamped, as well they might, after 

M 



162 THE OREGON TRAIL 

passing with their women, children, and horses through the 
gulf behind us. In one day we had made a journey which 
had cost them three to accomplish. 

The only outlet to this amphitheater lay over a hill some 
5 two hundred feet high, up which we moved with difficulty. 
Looking from the top, we saw that at last we were free of the 
mountains. The prairie spread before us, but so wild and 
broken that the view was everywhere obstructed. Far on 
our left one tall hill swelled up against the sky, on the 

lo smooth, pale green surface of which four slowly moving black 
specks were discernible. They were evidently buffalo, 
and we hailed the sight as a good augury; for where the 
buffalo were, there too the Indians would probably be found. 
We hoped on that very night to reach the village. We were 

IS anxious to do so for a double reason, wishing to bring our 
wearisome journey to an end, and knowing, moreover, that 
though to enter the village in broad daylight would be a 
perfectly safe experiment, yet to encamp in its vicinity 
would be dangerous. But as we rode on, the sun was sink- 

20 ing, and soon was within half an hour of the horizon. We 
ascended a hill and looked round us for a spot for our en- 
campment. The prairie was like a turbulent ocean, sud- 
denly congealed when its waves were at the highest, and it 
lay half in light and half in shadow, as the rich sunshine, 

25 yellow as gold, was pouring over it. The rough bushes of the 
wild sage were growing everywhere, its dull pale green over- 
spreading hill and hollow. Yet a little way before us, a 
bright verdant line of grass was winding along the plain,' 
and here and there throughout its course water was glisten- 

30 ing darkly. We went down to it, kindled a fire, and turned 
our horses loose to feed. It was a little trickling brook, 
that for some yards on either bank turned the barren prairie 
into fertility, and here and there it spread into deep pools, 
where the beaver had dammed it up. 

35 We placed our last remaining piece of the antelope before 
a scanty fire, mournfully reflecting on our exhausted stock 
of provisions. Just then an enormous gray hare, peculiar 
to these prairies, came jumping along, and seated himself 
within fifty yards to look at us. I thoughtlessly raised my 

40 rifle to shoot him, but Raymond called out to me not to fire 
for fear the report should reach the ears of the Indians. 



HUNTING INDIANS 163 



That night for the first time we considered that the danger 
to which we were exposed was of a somewhat serious char- 
acter; and to those who are unacquainted with Indians, 
it may seem strange that our chief apprehensions arose from 
the supposed proximity of the people whom we intended to 5 
visit. Had any stragghng party of these faithful friends 
caught sight of us from the hill-top, they would probably 
have returned in the night to plunder us of our horses and 
perhaps of our scalps. But we were on the prairie, where 
the genius loci° is at war with all nervous apprehensions; 10 
and I presume that neither Raymond nor I thought twice 
of the matter that evening. 

While he was looking after the animals, I sat by the fire 
engaged in the novel task of baking bread. The utensils 
were of the most simple and primitive kind, consisting of 15 
two sticks inclining over the bed of coals, one end thrust 
into the ground while the dough was twisted in a spiral 
form round the other. Under such circumstances all the 
epicurean in a man's nature is apt to awaken within him. 
I revisited in fancy the far .distant abodes of good fare, not 20 
indeed Frascati's,° or the Trois Frferes Provengaux,® for that 
were too extreme a flight; but no other than the homely 
table . of my old friend and host, Tom Crawford, of the 
White mountains. ° By a singular revulsion, Tom himself, 
whom I well remember to have looked upon as the imper- 25 
sonation of all that is wild and backwoodsmanlike, now 
appeared before me as the ministering angel of comfort 
and good living. Being fatigued and drowsy I began to 
doze, and my thoughts, following the same train of as- 
sociation, assumed another form. Half-dreaming, I saw 30 
myself surrounded with the mountains of New England, 
alive with water-falls, their black crags tinctured with milk- 
white mists. For this reverie I paid a speedy penalty; 
for the bread was black on one side and soft on the other. 

For eight hours Raymond and I, pillowed on our sad- 35 
dies, lay insensible as logs. Pauline's yellow head was 
stretched over me when I awoke. I got up and examined 
her. Her feet indeed were bruised and swollen by the 
accidents of yesterday, but her eye was brighter, her mo- 
tions livelier, and her mysterious malady had visibly 4© 
abated. We moved on, hoping within an hour to come 



164 THE OREGON TRAIL 

in sight of the Indian village; but again disappointment 
awaited us. The trail disappeared, melting away upon a 
hard and stony plain. Raymond and I separating, rode 
from side to side, scrutinizing every yard of ground, until 
5 at length I discerned traces of the lodge-poles passing by 
the side of a ridge of rocks. We began again to follow 
them. 

"What is that black spot out there on the prairie?" 
" It looks like a dead buffalo," answered Raymond. 

lo We rode out to it, and found it to be the huge carcass of 
a bull killed by the hunters as they had passed. Tangled 
hair and scraps of hide were scattered all around, for the 
wolves had been making merry over it, and had hollowed 
out the entire carcass. It was covered with myriads of 

15 large black crickets, and from its appearance must cer- 
tainly have lain there for four or five days. The sight was 
a most disheartening one, and I observed to Raymond 
that the Indians might still be fifty or sixty miles before 
us. But he shook his head, and replied that they dared not 

20 go so far for fear of their enemies, the Snakes. 

Soon after this we lost the trail again, and ascended a 
neighboring ridge, totally at a loss. Before us lay a plain 
perfectly flat, spreading on the right and left, without ap- 
parent limit, and bounded in front by a long broken Hne 

25 of hills, ten or twelve miles distant. All was open and ex- 
posed to view, yet not a buffalo nor an Indian was visible. 

" Do you see that ? " said Raymond ; '' now we had better 
turn round." 

But as Raymond's bourgeois thought otherwise, we de- 

30 scended the hill and began to cross the plain. We had come 
so far that I knew perfectly well neither Pauline's limbs 
nor my own could carry me back to Fort Laramie. I 
considered that the lines of expediency and inclination 
tallied exactly, and that the most prudent course was to 

35 keep forward. The ground immediately around us was 
thickly strewn v\'ith the skulls and bones of buffalo, for here 
a year or two before the Indians had made a "surround"; 
yet no living game presented itself. At length, however, 
an antelope sprang up and gazed at us. We fired together, 

40 and by a singular fatality we both missed, although the 
animal stood, a fair mark, within eighty yards. This ill 



HUNTING INDIANS 165 



success might perhaps be charged to our own eagerness, 
for by this time we had no provision left except a little 
flour. We could discern several small lakes, or rather ex- 
tensive pools of water, glistening in the distance. As we 
approached them, wolves and antelopes bounded away s 
through the tall grass that grew in their ^icinity, and flocks 
of large white plover flew screaming over their surface. 
Having failed of the antelope, Raymond tried his hand at the 
birds with the same ill success. The water also disappointed 
us. Its muddy margin was so beaten up by the crowd of lo 
buffalo that our timorous animals were afraid to approach. 
So we turned away and moved toward the hills. The rank 
grass, where it was not trampled down by the buffalo, fairly 
swept our horses' necks. 

Again we found the same execrable barren prairie offer- 15 
ing no clew by which to guide our way. As we drew near 
the hills an opening appeared, through which the Indians 
must have gone if they had passed that waj^ at all. Slowly 
we began to ascend it. I felt the most dreary forebodings 
of ill success, when on looking around I could discover 20 
neither dent of hoof, nor footprint, nor trace of lodge-pole, 
though the passage was encumbered b}^ the ghastly skulls 
of buffalo. ■ We heard thunder muttering; a storm was 
coming on. 

As we gained the top of the gap, the prospect beyond 25 
began to disclose itself. First, we saw a long dark line of 
ragged clouds upon the horizon, while above them rose 
the peak of the Medicine-Bow, the vanguard of the Rocky 
mountains; then little by little the plain came into view, 
a vast green uniformity', forlorn and tenantless, though 30 
Laramie creek glistened in a waving line over its surface, 
without a bush or a tree upon its banks. As yet, the 
round projecting shoulder of a hill intercepted a part of 
the \iew. I rode in advance, when suddenly I could dis- 
tinguish a few dark spots on the prairie, along the bank 35 
of the stream. 

" Buffalo !" said I. Then a sudden hope flashed upon me, 
and eagerly and anxiously I looked again. 

"Horses!" exclaimed Raymond, with a tremendous 
oath, lashing his mule forward as he spoke. More and more 40 
of the plain disclosed itself, and in rapid succession more 



166 THE OREGON TRAIL 

and more horses appeared, scattered along the river bank, 
or feeding in bands over the prairie. Then, suddenly, 
standing in a circle by the stream, swarming with their 
savage inhabitants, we saw rising before us the tall lodges 
5 of the Ogallallahs. Never did the heart of wanderer more 
gladden at the sight of home than did mine at the sight of 
those wild habitations I 



CHAPTER XIV 

THE OGALLALLAH VILLAGE 

Such a narrative as this is hardly the place for portray- 
ing the mental features of the Indians, The same picture, 
slightly changed in shade and coloring, would serve with 
very few exceptions for all the tribes that lie north of the 
Mexican territories. But with this striking similarity in 5 
their modes of thought, the tribes of the lake and ocean 
shores, of the forests and of the plains, differ greatly in 
their manner of life. Having been domesticated for 
several weeks among one of the wildest of the wild hordes 
that roam over the remote prairies, I had extraordinary lo 
opportunities of observing them. I flatter myself that 
a faithful picture of the scenes that passed daily before 
my eyes may not be devoid of interest and value. These 
men were thorough savages. Neither their manners nor 
their "ideas were in the slightest degree modified by con- 15 
tact with civilization. They knew nothing of the power 
and real character of the white men, and their children 
would scream in terror at the sight of me. Their religion, 
their superstitions, and their prejudices were the same 
that had been handed down to them from immemorial 20 
time. They fought with the same weapons that their 
fathers fought with, and wore the same rude garments of 
skins. 

Great changes are at hand in that region. With the 
stream of emigration to Oregon and California, the buffalo 25 
will dwindle away, and the large wandering communities 
who depend on them for support must be broken and 
scattered. The Indians will soon be corrupted by the ex- 
ample of the whites, abased by whisky, and overawed by 
military posts ; so that within a few years the traveler 30 
may pass in tolerable security through their country. Its 
danger and its charm will have disappeared together. 

As soon as Raymond and I discovered the village from 
167 



168 THE OREGON TRAIL 

the gap in the hills, we were seen in our turn; keen eyes 
were constantly on the watch. As we rode down upon 
the plain the side of the village nearest us was darkened 
with a crowd of naked figures gathering around the lodges. 
5 Several men came forward to meet us. I could distin- 
guish among them the green blanket of the Frenchman 
Reynal. When we came up the ceremony of shaking 
hands had to be gone through with in due form, and then 
all were eager to know what had become of the rest of my 

lo party. I satisfied them on this point, and we all moved 
forward together toward the village. 

" You've missed it," said Reynal ; " if you'd been here day 
before yesterday, you'd have found the whole prairie over 
yonder black with buffalo so far as you could see. There 

IS were no cows, though; nothing but bulls. We made a 
'surround' every day till yesterday. See the village there; 
don't that look like good living?" 

In fact I could see, even at that distance, that long cords 
were stretched from lodge to lodge, over which the meat, 

20 cut by the squaws into thin sheets, was hanging to dry in 
the sun. I noticed too that the village was somewhat 
smaller than when I had last seen it, and I asked Reynal 
the cause. He said that old Le Borgne had felt too weak 
to pass over the mountains, and so had remained be- 

25 hind with his relations, including Mahto-Tatonka and his 
brothers. The Whirlwind too had been unwilling to come 
so far, because, as Reynal said, he was afraid. Only half 
a dozen lodges had adhered to him, the main body of the 
village setting their chief's authority at naught, and taking 

30 the course most agreeable to their inclinations. 

" What chiefs are there in the village now ?" said I. 
"Well," said Reynal, ''there's old Red- Water, and The 
Eagle-Feather, and The Big Crow, and The Mad Wolf and 
The Panther, and The White-Shield, and — what's his 

35 name ? — the half-breed Cheyenne." 

By this time we were close to the village, and I observed 
that while the greater part of the lodges were very large 
and neat in their appearance, there was at one side a cluster 
of squalid, miserable huts. I looked toward them, and 

40 made some remark about their wretched appearance. But 
I was touching upon delicate ground. 



THE OGALLALLAH VILLAGE 169 

" My squaw's relations live in those lodges," said Reynal 
very warmly, "and there isn't a better set in the whole 
village." 

"Are there any chiefs among them ?" asked I. 

"Chiefs?" said Reynal; "yes, plenty I" 5 

" What are their names ?" I inquired. 

"Their names? Why, there's The Arrow- Head. If he 
isn't a chief he ought to be one. And there's The Hail- 
Storm. He's nothing but a boy, to be sure; but he's 
bound to be a chief one of these days !" lo 

Just then we passed between two of the lodges, and 
entered the great area of the village. Superb naked figures 
stood silently gazing on us. 

"Where's The Bad Wound's lodge?" said I to Reynal. 

"There, you've missed it again! The Bad Wound is 15 
away with The Whirlwind. If you could have found him 
here, and gone to live in his lodge, he would have treated 
you better than any man in the village. But there's The 
Big Crow's lodge yonder, next to old Red- Water's. He's 
a good Indian for the whites, and I advise you to go and 20 
live with him." 

"Are there many squaws and children in his lodge?" 
said I. 

" No ; only one squaw and two or three children. He 
keeps the rest in a separate lodge by themselves." 25 

So, still followed by a crowd of Indians, Raymond and 
I rode up to the entrance of The Big Crow's lodge. A 
squaw came out immediately and took our horses. I put 
aside the leather flap that covered the low opening, and 
stooping, entered The Big Crow's dwelling. There I could 30 
see the chief in the dim light, seated at one side, on a pile 
of buffalo robes. He greeted me with a guttural " How, 
cola!" I requested Reynal to tell him that Raymond and 
I were come to live with him. The Big Crow gave an- 
other low exclamation. If the reader thinks that we were 35 
intruding somewhat cavalierly, I beg him to observe that 
every Indian in the village would have deemed himself 
honored that white men should give such preference to his 
hospitality. 

The squaw spread a buffalo robe for us in the guest's 40 
place at the head of the lodge. Our saddles were brought 



170 THE OREGON TRAIL 

in, and scarcely were we seated upon them before the 
place was thronged with Indians, who came crowding in 
to see us. The Big Crow produced his pipe and filled it 
with the mixture of tobacco and shongsasha, or red willow 
5 bark. Round and round it passed, and a lively conver- 
sation went forward. Meanwhile a squaw placed before 
the two guests a wooden bowl of boiled buffalo meat, 
but unhappily this was not the only banquet destined to 
be inflicted on us. Rapidly, one after another, boys and 

lo young squaws thrust their heads in at the opening, to 
invite us to various feasts in different parts of the village. 
For half an hour or more we were actively engaged in pass- 
ing from lodge to lodge, tasting in each of the bowl of meat 
set before us, and inhaling a whiff or two from our enter- 

15 tainer's pipe. A thunderstorm that had been threatening 
for some time now began in good earnest. We crossed over 
to Reynal's lodge, though it hardly deserved this name, 
for it consisted only of a few old buffalo robes, supported 
on poles, and was quite open on one side. Here we sat 

20 down, and the Indians gathered round us. 

" What is it," said I, "that makes the thunder?" 
"It's my belief," said Reynal, "that it is a big stone 
rolling over the sky." ^ 

"Very likely," I replied; "but I want to -know what 

25 the Indians think about it." 

So he interpreted my question, which seemed to produce 
some doubt and debate. There was evidently a difference 
of opinion. At last old Mene-Seela, or Red- Water, who 
sat by himself at one side, looked up with his withered 

30 face, and said he had always known what the thunder 
was. It was a great black bird; and once he had seen 
it, in a dream, swooping down from the Black hills, with 
its loud roaring wings; and when it flapped them over a 
lake, they struck lightning from the water. 

35 "The thunder is bad," said another old man, who sat 
muffled in his buffalo robe: "he killed my brother last 
summer." 

Reynal, at my request, asked for an explanation; but 
the old man remained dogge^lly silent, and would not look 

40 up. Some time after I learned how the accident occurred. 
The man who was killed belonged to an association which. 



THE OGALLALLAH VILLAGE 171 

among other mystic functions, claimed the exclusive power 
and privilege of fighting the thunder. Whenever a storm 
which they wished to avert was threatening, the thunder- 
fighters would take their bows and arrows, their guns, 
their magic drum, and a sort of whistle, made out of the s 
wingbone of the war eagle. Thus equipped, they would run 
out and fire at the rising cloud, whooping, yelling, whistling, 
and beating their drum, to frighten it down again. One 
afternoon a heavy black cloud was coming up, and they 
repaired to the top of a hill, where they brought all their lo 
magic artillery into play against it. But the undaunted 
thunder, refusing to be terrified, kept moving straight on- 
ward, and darted out a bright flash which struck one of 
the party dead, as he was in the very act of shaking his 
long iron-pointed lance against it. The rest scattered 15 
and ran yelling in an ecstasy of superstitious terror back 
to their lodges. 

The lodge of my host Kongra-Tonga, or The Big Crow, 
presented a picturesque spectacle that evening. A score 
or more of Indians were seated around in a circle, their 20 
dark naked forms just visible by the dull light of the smolder- 
ing fire in the center, the pipe glowing brightly in the gloom 
as it passed from hand to hand round the lodge. Then a 
squaw would drop a piece of buffalo-fat on the dull embers. 
Instantly a bright glancing flame would leap up, darting 25 
its clear light to the very apex of the tall conical structure, 
where the tops of the slender poles that supported its cover- 
ing of leather were gathered together. It gilded the features 
of the Indians, as with animated gestures they sat around it, 
telling their endless stories of war and hunting. It dis- 30 
played rude garments of skins that hung around the lodge; 
the bow, quiver, and lance suspended over the resting- 
place of the chief, and the rifles and powder-horns of the 
two white guests. For a moment all would be bright as 
day; then the flames would die away, and the fitful flashes 35 
from the embers would illumine the lodge, and then leave 
it in darkness. Then all the light would wholly fade, and 
the lodge and all within it be involved again in obscurity. 

As I left the lodge next morning, I was saluted by howl- 
ing and yelping from all around the village, and half its 40 
canine population rushed forth to the attack. Being as 



172 THE OREGON TRAIL 



cowardly as they were clamorous, they kept jumping around 
me at the distance of a few yards, only one little cur, about 
ten inches long, having spirit enough to make a direct 
assault. He dashed valiantly at the leather tassel which 
5 in the Dahcotah fashion was trailing behind the heel of 
my moccasin, and kept his hold, growling and snarling all 
the while, though every step I made almost jerked him 
over on his back. As I knew that the eyes of the whole 
village were on the watch to see if I showed any sign of 

lo apprehension, I walked forward without looking to the 
right or left, surrounded wherever I went by this magic 
circle of dogs. When I came to Reynal's lodge I sat down 
by it, on which the dogs dispersed growling to their re- 
spective quarters. Only one large white one remained, 

15 who kept running about before me and showing his teeth. 
I called him, but he only growled the more. I looked at 
him well. He was fat and sleek; just such a dog as I 
wanted. "My friend," thought I, '^you shall pay for this ! 
I will have you eaten this very morning!" 

20 I intended that day to give the Indians a feast, by way 
of conveying a favorable impression of my character and 
dignity; and a white dog is the dish which the customs 
of the Dahcotahs prescribe for all occasions of formality 
and importance. I consulted Reynal; he soon discovered 

25 that an old woman in the next lodge was owner of the 
white dog. I look a gaudy cotton handkerchief, and lay- 
ing it on the ground, arranged some vermilion, beads, and 
ot^er trinkets upon it. Then the old squaw was summoned. 
I pointed to the dog and to the handkerchief. She gave 

30 a scream of delight, snatched up the prize, and vanished 
with it into her lodge. For a few more trifles I engaged 
the services of two other squaws, each of whom took the 
white dog by one of his paws, and led him away behind 
the lodges, while he kent looking up at them with a face 

35 of innocent surprise. Having killed him they threw him 
into a fire to singe ; then choDped him up and put him into 
two large kettles to boil. Meanwhile I told Raymond to 
fry in buffalo-fat what little flour we had left, and also to 
make a kettle of tea as an additional item of the repast. 

40 The Big Crow's squaw was briskly at work sweeping 
out the lodge for the approaching festivity. I confided to 



THE OGALLALLAH VILLAGE 173 

my host himself the task of inviting the guests, thinking 
that I might thereby shift from my own shoulders the 
odium of fancied neglect and oversight. 

When feasting is in question, one hour of the day serves 
an Indian as well as another. My entertainment came 5 
off about eleven o'clock. At that hour, Reynal and Ray- 
mond walked across the area of the village, to the admira- 
tion of the inhabitants, carrying the two kettles of dog- 
meat slung on a pole between them. These they placed 
in the center of the lodge, and then went back for the bread 10 
and the tea. Meanwhile I had put on a pair of brilliant 
moccasins, and substituted for my old buckskin frock a 
coat which I had brought with me in view of such public 
occasions. I also made careful use of the razor, an opera- 
tion which no man will neglect who desires to gam the good 15 
opinion of Indians. Thus attired, I seated myself between 
Reynal and Raymond at the head of the lodge. Only 
a few minutes elapsed before all the guests had come 
in and were seated on the ground, wedged together m 
a close circle around the lodge. Each brought w^ith him 20 
a wooden bowl to hold his share of the repast. When all 
were assembled, two of the officials called "soldiers" by 
the white men, came forward with ladles made of the horn 
of the Rocky mountain sheep, and began to distribute 
the feast, always assigning a double share to the old men 25 
and chiefs. The dog vanished with astonishing celerity, 
and each guest turned his dish bottom upward to show that 
all was gone. Then the bread was distributed in its turn, 
and finally the tea. As the soldiers poured it out into the 
same w^ooden bowls that had served for the substantial 3° 
part of the meal, I thought it had a particularly curious 
and uninviting color. 

''Oh!" said Reynal, "there was not tea enough, so I 
stirred some soot in the kettle, to make it look strong." 

Fortunately an Indian's palate is not very discriminating. 35 
The tea was well sweetened, and that was all they cared 
for. 

Now the former part of the entertainment being con- 
cluded, the time for speech-making was come. The Big 
Crow produced a flat piece of wood on which he cut up 40 
tobacco and shongsasha, and mixed them in due proper- 



174 THE OREGON TRAIL 

tions. The pipes were filled and passed from hand to hand 
around the company. Then I began my speech, each 
sentence being interpreted b}^ Reynal as I went on, and 
echoed by the whole audience with the usual exclamations 
5 of assent and approval. As nearly as I can recollect, it 
was as follows : 

I had come, I told them, from a country so far distant, 
that at the rate they travel, they could not reach it in a 
year, 
lo ''How! how!" . 

''There the Meneaska were more numerous than the 
blades of grass on the prairie. The squaws were far more 
beautiful than they had ever seen, and all the men were 
brave warriors." 
15 '' How ! how ! how !" 

Here I was assailed by sharp twinges of conscience, for 
I fancied I could perceive a fragrance of perfumery in the 
air, and a vision rose before me of white kid gloves and 
silken mustaches with the mild and gentle countenances 
20 of numerous fair-haired young men. But I recovered my- 
self and began again. 

" While I was living in the Meneaska lodges, I had heard 

of the Ogallallahs, how great and brave a nation they were, 

how they loved the whites, and how well they could hunt 

25 the buffalo and strike their enemies. I resolved to come 

and see if all that I heard was true." 

" How ! how ! how ! how !" 

"As I had come on horseback through the mountains, 
I had been able to bring them only a very few presents." 
30 "How!" 

"But I had enough tobacco to give them all a small 
piece. They might smoke it, and see how much better it 
was than the tobacco which they got from the traders." 

" How ! how ! how ! " 
35 " I had plenty of powder, lead, knives, and tobacco at 
Fort Laramie. These I was anxious to give them, and 
if any of them should come to the fort before I went away, 
I would make them handsome presents." 

" How ! how ! how ! how !" 
40 Raymond then cut up and distributed among them two 
or three pounds of tobacco, and old Mene-Seela began to 



THE OGALLALLAH VILLAGE 175 

make a reply. It was quite long, but the following was 
the pith of it : 

"He had always loved the whites. They were the 
wisest people on earth. He believed they could do every- 
thing, and he was always glad when any of them came 5 
to live in the Ogallallah lodges. It was true I had not 
made them many presents, but the reason of it was plain. 
It was clear that I liked them, or I never should have come 
so far to find their village." 

Several other speeches of similar import followed, and 10 
then this more serious matter being disposed of, there was 
an interval of smoking, laughing, and conversation; but 
old Mene-Seela suddenly interrupted it with a loud voice. 

"Now is a good time," he said, "when all the old men 
and chiefs are here together, to decide what the people 15 
shall do. We came over the mountain to make our lodges 
for next year. Our old ones are good for nothing; they 
are rotten and worn out. But we have been disappointed. 
We have killed buffalo bulls enough, but we have found 
no herds of cows, and the skins of bulls are too thick and 20 
heavy for our squaws to make lodges of. There must be 
plenty of cows about the Medicine-Bow mountain. We 
ought to go there. To be sure it is farther westward than 
we have ever been before, and perhaps the Snakes will 
attack us, for those hunting-grounds belong to them. But 25 
we must have new lodges at any rate; our old ones will 
not serve for another year. We ought not to be afraid of 
the Snakes. Our w^arriors are brave, and they are all 
ready for war. Besides, we have three white men with 
their rifles to help us." 30 

I could not help thinking that the old man relied a little 
too much on the aid of allies, one of whom was a coward, 
another a blockhead, and the third an invalid. This 
speech produced a good deal of debate. As Reynal did 
not interpret what was said, I could only judge of the 35 
meaning by the features and gestures of the speakers. 
At the end of it, however, the greater number seemed to 
have fallen in with Mene-Seela's opinion. A short silence 
followed, and then the old man struck up a discordant 
chant, which I was told was a song of thanks for the enter- 40 
tainment I had given them. 



176 THE OREGON TRAIL 

"Now," said he, "let us go and give the white men a 
chance to breathe." 

So the company all dispersed into the open air, and for 
some time the old chief was walking round the village, 
5 singing his song in praise of the feast, after the usual cus- 
tom of the nation. 

At last the day drew to a close, and as the sun went 
down the horses came trooping from the surrounding plains 
to be picketed before the dwellings of their respective 

lo masters. Soon within the great circle of lodges appeared 
another concentric circle of restless horses; and here 
and there fires were glowing and flickering amid the gloom 
on the dusky figures around them. I went over and sat 
by the lodge of Reynal. The Eagle-Feather, who was a 

15 son of Mene-Seela, and brother of my host The Big Crow, 
was seated there already, and I asked him if the village 
would move in the morning. He shook his head, and said 
that nobody could tell, for since old Mahto-Tatonka had 
died, the people had been like children that did not know 

20 their own minds. They were no better than a body without 
a head. So I, as well as the Indians themselves, fell asleep 
that night without knowing whether we should set out in 
the morning toward the country of the Snakes. 

At daybreak, however, as I was coming up from the 

25 river after my morning's ablutions, I saw that a move- 
ment was contemplated. Some of the lodges were re- 
duced to nothing but bare skeletons of poles ; the leather 
covering of others was flapping in the wind as the squaws 
were pulling it off. One or two chiefs of note had resolved, 

30 it seemed, on moving; and so having set their squaws at 
work, the example was tacitly followed by the rest of the 
village. One by one the lodges were sinking down in rapid 
succession, and where the great circle of the village had 
been only a moment before, nothing now remained but a 

35 ring of horses and Indians, crowded in confusion together. 
The ruins of the lodges were spread over the ground, to- 
gether with kettles, stone mallets, great ladles of horn, 
buffalo robes, and cases of painted hide, filled with dried 
meat. Squaws bustled about in their busy preparations, 

40 the old hags screaming to one another at the stretch of their 
leathern lungs. The shaggy horses were patiently standing 



THE OGALLALLAH VILLAGE 177 

while the lodge-poles were lashed to their sides, and the 
baggage piled upon their backs. The dogs, with their 
tongues lolling out, lay lazily panting, and waiting for the 
time of departure. Each warrior sat on the ground by the 
decaying embers of his fire, unmoved amid all the con- 5 
fusion, while he held in his hand the long trail- rope of his 
horse. 

As their preparations were completed, each family moved 
off the ground. The crowd was rapidly melting away. I 
could see them crossing the river, and passing in quick sue- 10 
cession along the profile of the hill on the farther bank. 
When all were gone, I mounted and set out after them, 
followed by Raymond, and as we gained the summit, the 
whole village came in view at once, straggling away for a 
mile or more over the barren plains before us. Every- 15 
where the iron points of lances were glittering. The sun 
never shone upon a more strange array. Here were the 
heavy-laden pack horses, some wretched old women lead- 
ing them, and two or three children clinging to their backs. 
Here were mules or ponies covered from head to tail with 20 
gaudy trappings, and mounted by some gay young squaw, 
grinning bashfulness and pleasure as the Meneaska looked 
at her., Boys with miniature bows and arrows were wander- 
ing over the plains, little naked children were running along 
on foot, and numberless dogs were scampering among the 25 
feet of the horses. The young braves, gaudy with paint 
and feathers, were riding in groups among the crowd, 
and often galloping, two or three at once along the line, 
to try the speed of their horses. Here and there you might 
see a rank of sturdy pedestrians stalking along in their 30 
white buffalo robes. These were the dignitaries of the 
village, the old men and warriors, to whose age and ex- 
perience that wandering democracy yielded a silent def- 
erence. With the rough prairie and the broken hills for 
its background, the restless scene was striking and pictu- 35 
resque beyond description. Days and weeks made me 
familiar with it, but never impaired its effect upon my 
fancy. 

As we moved on the broken column grew yet more scat- 
tered and disorderly, until, as we approached the foot of 40 
a hill, I saw the old men before mentioned seating them- 



178 THE OREGON TRAIL 

selves in a line upon the ground, in advance of the whole. 
They lighted a pipe and sat smoking, laughing, and tell- 
ing stories, while the people, stopping as they successively 
came up, were soon gathered in a crowd behind them. 
5 Then the old men rose, drew their buffalo robes over their 
shoulders, and strode on as before. Gaining the top of 
the hill, we found a very steep declivity before us. There 
was not a minute's pause. The whole descended in a 
mass, amid dust and confusion. The horses braced their 

TO feet as they slid down, women and children were scream- 
ing, dogs yelping as they were trodden upon, while stones 
and earth went rolling to the bottom. In a few moments 
I could see the village from the summit, spreading again 
far and wide over the plain below. 

15 At our encampment that afternoon I was attacked anew 
by my old disorder. In half an hour the strength that I 
had been gaining for a week past had vanished again, and 
I became like a man in a dream. But at sunset I lay 
down in The Big Crow's lodge and slept, totally uncon- 

20 scious till the morning. The first thing that awakened 
me was a hoarse flapping over my head, and a sudden 
light that poured in upon me. The camp was breaking 
up, and the squaws were moving the covering from the 
lodge. I arose and shook off my blanket with the feeling 

25 of perfect health; but scarcely had I gained my feet when 
a sense of my helpless condition was once more forced 
upon me, and I found myself scarcely able to stand. Ray- 
mond had brought up Pauline and the mule, and I stooped 
to raise my saddle from the ground. My strength was 

30 quite inadequate to the task. "You must saddle her," 
said I to Raymond, as I sat down again on a pile of buf- 
falo robes: 

'*Et hsec etiam fortasse meminisse juvabit,"° 

I thought, while with a painful effort I raised myself into 
35 the saddle. Half an hour after, even the expectation that 
Virgil's line expressed seemed destined to disappointment. 
As we were passing over a great plain, surrounded by 
long broken ridges, I rode slowly in advance of the Indians, 
with thoughts that wandered far from the time and from the 
40 place. Suddenly the sky darkened, and thunder began 



THE OGALLALLAH VILLAGE 179 

to mutter. Clouds were rising over the hills, as dreary 
and dull as the first forebodings of an approaching calamity ; 
and in a n^ment all around was wrapped in shadow. I 
looked behind. The Indians had stopped to prepare for 
the approaching storm, and the dark, dense mass of savages 5 
stretched far to the right and left. Since the first attack 
of my disorder the effects of rain upon me had usually 
been injurious in the extreme. I had no strength to spare, 
having at that moment scarcely enough to keep my seat 
on horseback. Then, for the first time, it pressed upon me 10 
as a strong probability that I might never leave those 
deserts. ''Well," thought I to myself, ''a prairie makes 
quick and sharp work. Better to die here, in the saddle to 
the last, than to stifle in the hot air of a sick chamber ; and 
a thousand times better than to drag out life, as many 15 
have done, in the helpless inaction of lingering disease.'' 
So, drawing the buffalo robe on which I sat over my head, 
I waited till the storm should come. It broke at last with 
a sudden burst of fury, and passing away as rapidly as it 
came, left the sky clear again. My reflections served me 20 
no other purpose than to look back upon as a piece of curious 
experience; for the rain did not produce the ill effects that 
I had* expected. We encamped within an hour. Having 
no change of clothes, I contrived to borrow a curious kind 
of substitute from Reynal : and this done, I went home, that 25 
is, to The Big Crow's lodge, to make the entire transfer that 
was necessary. Half a dozen squaws were in the lodge, 
and one of them taking my arm held it against her own, 
while a general laugh and scream of admiration was raised 
at the contrast in the color of the skin. 30 

Our encampment that afternoon was not far distant 
from a spur of the Black hills, whose ridges, bristling with 
fir trees, rose from the plains a mile or two on our right. 
That they might move more rapidly toward their proposed 
hunting-grounds, the Indians determined to leave at this 35 
place their stock of dried meat and other superfluous articles. 
Some left even their lodges, and contented themselves 
with carrying a few hides to make a shelter from the sun 
and rain. Half the inhabitants set out in the afternoon, 
with loaded pack horses, toward the mountains. Here 40 
they suspended the dried meat upon trees, where the wolves 



180 THE OREGON TRAIL 



1 

en- « 



and grizzly bears could not get at it. All returned at even- 
ing. Some of the young men declared that they had heard 
the reports of guns among the mountains to the eastward, 
and many surmises were thrown out as to tlie origin of 

5 these sounds. For my part, I was in hopes that Shaw and 
Henry Chatillon were coming to join us. I would have 
welcomed them cordially, for I had no other companions 
than two brutish white men and five hundred savages. I 
little suspected that at that very moment my unlucky 

10 comrade was lying on a buffalo robe at Fort Laramie, 
fevered with ivy poison, and solacing his woes with tobacco 
and Shakspere. 

As we moved over the plains on the next morning several 
young men were riding about the country as scouts; and 

15 at length we began to see them occasionally on the tops 
of the hills, shaking their robes as a signal that they saw 
buffalo. Soon after some bulls came in sight. Horsemen 
darted away in pursuit, and we could see from the distance 
that one or two of the buffalo were killed. Raymond 

20 suddenly became inspired. I looked at him as he rode by 
my side; his face had actually grown intelligent. 

"This is the country for me!" he said; "if I could only 
carry the buffalo that are killed here every month down 
to St. Louis I'd make my fortune in one winter. I'd grow 

25 as rich as old Papin, or Mackenzie either. I call this the 
poor man's market. When I'm hungry I have only got 
to take my rifle and go out and get better meat than the 
rich folks down below can get with all their money. You 
won't catch me living in St. Louis another winter." 

30 "No," said Reynal, "you had better say that after you 

and your Spanish woman almost starved to death there. 

What a fool you were ever to take her to the settlements." 

"Your Spanish woman?" said I; "I never heard of her 

before. Are you married to her?" 

35 "No," answered Raymond, again looking intelligent; 
"the priests don't marry their women, and why should I 
marry mine?" 

This honorable mention of the Mexican clergy intro- 
duced the subject of religion, and I found that my two as- 

40 sociates, in common with other white men in the country, 
were as indifferent to their future welfare as men whose 



THE OGALLALLAH VILLAGE 181 

lives are in constant peril are apt to be. Raymond had 
never heard of the pope. A certain bishop, who lived at 
Taos° or at Santa Fe, embodied his loftiest idea of an ec- 
clesiastical dignitary. Reynal observed that a priest had 
been at Fort Laramie two years ago, on his way to the 5 
Nez Perce mission, and that he had confessed all the men 
there and given them absolution. " I got a good clear- 
ing out myself that time," said Reynal, "and I reckon 
that will do for me till I go down to the settlements again." 

Here he interrupted himself with an oath and exclaimed : lo 
"Look ! look ! The Panther is running an antelope !" 

The Panther, on his black and white horse, one of the 
best in the village, came at full speed over the hill in hot 
pursuit of an antelope that darted away like lightning 
before him. The attempt was made in mere sport and 15 
bravado, for very few are the horses that can for a moment 
compete in swiftness with this little animal. The antelope 
ran down the hill toward the main body of the Indians who 
were moving over the plain bplow\ Sharp yells were 
given and horsemen galloped out to intercept his flight. 20 
At this he turned sharply to the left and scoured away 
with such incredible speed that he distanced all his pur- 
suers and even the vaunted horse of The Panther himself. 
A few moments after we witnessed a more serious sport. 
A shaggy buffalo bull bounded out from a neighboring 25 
hollow, and close behind him came a slender Indian boy, 
riding without stirrups or saddle and lashing his eager little 
horse to full speed. Yard after yard he drew closer to his 
gigantic victim, though the bull, with ids short tail erect 
and his tongue lolling out a foot from his foaming jaws, 30 
was straining his unwieldy strength to the utmost. A 
moment more and the boy was close alongside of him. 
It was our friend The Hail-Storm. He dropped the rein 
on his horse's neck and jerked an arrow like lightning 
from the quiver at his shoulder. 35 

"I tell you," said Reynal, "that in a year's time that 
boy will match the best hunter in the village. There he 
has given it to him ! and there goes another ! You feel 
well, now, old bull, don't you, with two arrows stuck in 
your lights? There, he has given him another! Hear 40 
how The Hail-Storm yells when he shoots ! Yes, jump 



182 THE OREGON TRAIL 



at him; try it again, old fellow! You may jump all day 
before you get your horns into that pony!" 

The bull sprang again and again at his assailant, but 
the horse kept dodging with wonderful celerity. At length 
5 the bull followed up his attack with a furious rush, and 
The Hail-Storm was put to flight, the shaggy monster 
following close behind. The boy clung in his seat like 
a leech, and secure in the speed of his little pony, looked 
round toward us and laughed. In a moment he was again 

lo alongside of the bull, who was now driven to complete 
desperation. His eyeballs glared through his tangled 
mane, and the blood flew from his mouth and nostrils. 
Thus, still battling with each other, the two enemies dis- 
appeared over the hill. 

IS Many of the Indians rode at full gallop toward the spot. 
We followed at a more moderate space, and soon saw the 
bull lying dead on the side of the hill. The Indians were 
gathered around him, and several knives were already at 
work. These little instruments were plied with such won- 

20 derful address that the twisted sinews were cut apart, the 
ponderous bones fell asunder as if by magic, and in a 
moment the vast carcass was reduced to a heap of bloody 
ruins. The surrounding group of savages offered no very 
attractive spectacle to a civilized eye. Some were crack- 

25 ing the huge thigh-bones and devouring the marrow within; 
others were cutting away pieces of the liver and other 
approved morsels, and swallowing them on the spot with 
the appetite of wolves. The faces of most of them, be- 
smeared with blood from ear to ear, looked grim and hor- 

30 rible enough. My friend The White Shield proffered me 
a marrow bone, so skillfully laid open that all the rich sub- 
stance within was exposed to view at once. Another 
Indian held out a large piece of the delicate lining of the 
paunch; but these courteous offerings I begged leave to 

35 decline. I noticed one little boy who was very busy with 
his knife about the jaws and throat of the buffalo, from 
which he extracted some morsel of peculiar delicacy. It is 
but fair to say that only certain parts of the animal are 
considered eligible in these extempore banquets. The 

40 Indians would look with abhorrence on any one who should 
partake indiscriminately of the newly killed carcass. 



THE OGALLALLAH VILLAGE 183 

We encamped that night, and marched westward through ■ 
the greater part of the following day. On the next morning 
we again resumed our journey. It was the seventeenth 
of July, unless my notebook misleads me. At noon we 
stopped by some pools of rain-water, and in the afternoon 5 
again set forward. This double movement was contrary 
to the usual practice of the Indians, but all were very anx- 
ious to reach the hunting ground, kill the necessary num- 
ber of buffalo, and retreat as soon as possible from the 
dangerous neighborhood. I pass by for the present some 10 
curious incidents that occurred during these marches and 
encampments. Late in the afternoon of the last men- 
tioned day we came upon the banks of a little sandy stream, 
of which the Indians could not tell the name; for they 
were very ill acquainted with that part of the country. 15 
So parched and arid were the prairies around that they 
could not supply grass enough for the horses to feed upon, 
and we were compelled to move farther and farther up 
the stream in search of ground for encampment. The 
country was much wilder than before. The plains were 20 
gashed with ravines and broken into hollows and steep 
declivities, which flanked our course, as, in long scattered 
array, the Indians advanced up the side of the stream. 
Mene-Seela consulted an extraordinary oracle to instruct 
him where the buffalo were to be found. When he with 25 
the other chiefs sat down on the grass to smoke and con- 
verse, as they often did during the march, the old man 
picked up one of those enormous black-and-green crickets, 
which the Dahcotahs call by a name that signifies ''They 
who point out the buffalo." The Root-Diggers, a wretched 30 
tribe beyond the mountains, turn them to good account by 
making them into a sort of soup, pronounced by certain 
unscrupulous trappers to be extremely rich. Holding 
the bloated insect respectfully between his fingers and 
thumb, the old Indian looked attentively at him and in- 35 
quired, "Tell me, my father, where must we go to-morrow 
to find the buffalo?" The cricket twisted about his long 
horns in evident embarrassment. At last he pointed, or 
seemed to point, them westward. Mene-Seela, dropping 
him gently on the grass, laughed with great glee, and said 40 
that if we went that way in the morning we should be sure 
to kill plenty of game. 



184 THE OREGON TRAIL 

Toward evening we came upon a fresh green meadow, 
traversed by the stream, and deep-set among tall sterile 
bluffs. The Indians descended its steep bank; and as I 
was at the rear, I was one of the last to reach this point. 
5 Lances were glittering, feathers fluttering, and the water 
below me was crowded with men and horses passing through, 
while the meadow beyond was swarming with the restless 
crowd of Indians. The sun was just setting, and poured 
its softened light upon them through an opening in the 

lo hills. 

I remarked to Reynal that at last we had found a good 
camping-ground . 

"Oh, it is very good," replied he ironically; "especially 
if there is a Snake war party about, and they take it into 

15 their heads to shoot down at us from the top of these hills. 
It is no plan of mine, camping in such a hole as this !" 

The Indians also seemed apprehensive. High up on 
the top of the tallest bluff, conspicuous in the bright even- 
ing sunlight, sat a naked warrior on horseback, looking 

20 around, as it seemed, over the neighboring country; and 
Raymond told me that many of the young men had gone 
out in different directions as scouts. 

The shadows had reached to the very summit of the 
bluffs before the lodges were erected and the village re- 

25 duced again to quiet and order. A cry was suddenly 
raised, and men, women, and children came running out 
with animated faces, and looked eagerly through the 
opening on the hills by which the stream entered from 
the westward. I could discern afar off some dark, heavy 

30 masses, passing over the sides of a low hill. They dis- 
appeared, and then others followed. These were bands of 
buffalo cows. The hunting ground was reached at last, and 
everything promised well for the morrow's sport. Being 
fatigued and exhausted, I went and lay down in Kongra- 

35 Tonga's lodge, when Raymond thrust in his head, and 
called upon me to come and see some sport. A number 
of Indians were gathered, laughing, along the line of lodges 
on the western side of the village, and at some distance, 
I could plainly see in the twilight two huge black monsters 

40 stalking, heavily and solemnly, directly toward us. They 
were buffalo bulls. The wind blew from them to the village, 



THE OGALLALLAH VILLAGE 185 

and such was their bUndness and stupidity that they were 
advancing upon the enemy without the least consciousness 
of his presence. Raymond told me that two young men 
had hidden themselves with guns in a ravine about twenty 
yards in front of us. The two bulls walked slowly on 5 
heavily swinging from side to side in their peculiar gait of 
stupid dignity. They approached within four or five rods 
of the ravine where the Indians lay in ambush. Here at 
last thev seemed conscious that something was ^'yo"g' for 
they both stopped and stood perfectly still, without looking lo 
either to the right or to the left. Nothing of them was to be 
seen but two huge black masses of shaggy rnane with horns 
eves and nose in the center, and a pair of hoofs visible at 
the iDottom. At last the more intelligent of them seemed 
to have concluded that it was time to retire. Very slmAly, is 
and with an air of the gravest and most majestic delibera- 
tion, he began to turn round, as if he were revolving on 
a piVot. Little by little his ugly brown side was exposed 
to view. A white smoke sprang out, as it ^vere from the 
ground; a sharp report came with it. The oM buH gave .o 
I very undi^gftified jump and galoped off. At this his 
comrade wheeled about with considerable expedition. The 
other Indian shot at him from the ravine, and then both 
the bulls were running away at full speed, while half the 
juvenile population of the village raised a yell and ran 25 
ifter them The first bull soon stopped and while the 
crowd stood looking at him at a respectful distance, he 
reeled and rolled over on his side. The other wounded 
in a less vital part, galloped away to the hills and escaped. 

In hSf an hour it was totally dark. I lay down to sleep, 30 
and ill as I was, there was something very animating m 
the prospect of the general hunt that was to take place on 
the morrow. 



CHAPTER XV 

THE HUNTING CAMP 

Long before daybreak the Indians broke up their camp. 
The women of Mene-Seela's lodge were as usual among 
the first that were ready for departure, and I found the 
old man himself sitting by the embers of the decayed fire, 
5 over which he was warming his withered fingers, as the 
morning was very chilly and damp. The preparations 
for moving were even more confused and disorderly than 
usual. While some families were leaving the ground the 
lodges of others were still standing untouched. At this 

loold Mene-Seela grew impatient, and walking out to the 
middle of the village stood with his robe wrapped close 
around him, and harangued the people ir^a loud, sharp 
voice. Now, he 'said, when they were on an enemy's 
hunting grounds, was not the time to behave like children ; 

15 they ought to be more active and united than ever. His 
speech had some effect. The delinquents took down their 
lodges and loaded their pack horses; and when the sun 
rose, the last of the men, women, and children had left 
the deserted camp. 

20 This movement was made merely for the purpose of 
finding a better and safer position. So we advanced only 
three or four miles up the little stream, before each family 
assumed its relative place in the great ring of the village, 
and all around the squaws were actively at work in pre- 

25 paring the camp. But not a single warrior dismounted 
from his horse. All the men that morning were mounted 
on inferior animals, leading their best horses by a cord, 
or confiding them to the care of boys. In small parties 
they began to leave the ground and ride rapidly away 

30 over the plains to the westward. I had taken no food 
that morning, and not being at all ambitious of farther 
abstinence, I went into my host's lodge, which his squaws 

186 



THE HUNTING CAMP 187 

had erected with wonderful celerity, and sat down in the 
center, as a gentle hint that I was hungry. A wooden 
bowl was soon set before me, filled with the nutritious 
preparation of dried meat called yemmican by the northern 
voyagers and wasna by the. Dahcotahs. Taking a hand- 5 
ful to break my fast upon, I left the lodge just in time 
to see the last band of hunters disappear over the ridge of 
the neighboring hill. I mounted Pauline and galloped 
in pursuit, riding rather by the balance than by any mus- 
cular strength that remained to me. From the top of the ic 
hill I could overlook a wide extent of desolate and un- 
broken prairie, over which, far and near, little parties of 
naked horsemen were rapidly passing. I soon came up 
to the nearest, and we had not ridden a mile before all 
were united into one large and compact body. All was 15 
haste and eagerness. Each hunter was whipping on his 
horse, as if anxious to be the first to reach the game. In 
such movements among the Indians this is always more 
or less the case; but it was especially so in the present 
instance, because the head chief of the village was absent, 20 
and there were but few "soldiers," a sort of Indian police, 
who among their other functions usually assume the direc- 
tion "of a buffalo hunt. No man turned to the right hand 
or to the left. We rode at a swift canter straight forward, 
uphill and downhill, and through the stiff, obstinate growth 25 
of the endless wild-sage bushes. For an hour and a half 
the same red shoulders, the same long black hair rose and 
fell with the motion of the horses before me. Very little 
w^as said, though once I observed an old man severely 
reproving Raymond for having left his rifle behind him, 30 
when there was some probability of encountering an enemy 
before the day was over. As we galloped across a plain 
thickly set with sage bushes, the foremost riders vanished 
suddenly from sight, as if diving into the earth. The arid 
soil was cracked into a deep ravine. Down we all went in 35 
succession and galloped in a line along the bottom, until 
we found a point where, one by one, the horses could 
scramble out. Soon after, we came upon a wide shallow 
stream, and as we rode swiftly over the hard sand-beds 
and through the thin sheets of rippling water, many of the 40 
savage horsemen threw themselves to the ground, knelt 



188 THE OREGON TRAIL 

on the sand, snatched a hasty draught, and leaping back 
again to their seats, galloped on again as before. 

Meanwhile scouts kept in advance of the party; and 
now we began to see them on the ridge of the hills, wav- 
5 ing their robes in token that buffalo were visible. These 
however proved to be nothing more than old straggling 
bulls, feeding upon the neighboring plains, who would stare 
for a moment at the hostile array and then gallop clumsily 
off. At length we could discern several of these scouts 

lo making their signals to us at once ; no longer waving their 
robes .boldly from the top of the hill, but standing lower 
down, so that they could not be seen from the plains beyond. 
Game worth pursuing had evidently been discovered. 
The excited Indians now urged forward their tired horses 

15 even more rapidly than before. Pauline, who was still 
sick and jaded, began to groan heavily; and her yellow 
sides were darkened with sweat. As we were crowding 
together over a lower intervening hill, I heard Reynal and 
Raymond shouting to me from the left ; and looking in that 

20 direction, I saw them riding away behind a party of about 
twenty mean-looking Indians. These were the relatives 
of Reynal's squaw Margot, who, not wishing to take part 
in the general hunt, were I'iding toward a distant hollow, 
where they could discern a small band of buffalo which they 

25 meant to appropriate to themselves. I answered to the 
call by ordering Raymond to turn back and follow me. 
He reluctantly obeyed, though Reynal, who had relied 
on his assistance in skinning, cutting up, and carrying to 
camp the buffalo that he and his party should kill, loudly 

30 protested and declared that we should see no sport if we 
went with the rest of the Indians. Followed by Raymond 
I pursued the main body of hunters, while Reynal in a great 
rage whipped his horse over the hill after his ragamuffin 
relatives. The Indians, still about a hundred in number, 

35 rode in a dense body at some distance in advance. They 
galloped forward, and a cloud of dust was flying in the wind 
behind them. I could not overtake them until they had 
stopped on the side of the hill where the scouts were stand- 
ing. Here, each hunter sprang in haste from the tired 

40 animal which he had ridden, and leaped upon the fresh 
horse that he had brought with him. There was not a 



THE HUNTiyO CAMP 189 

saddle or a bridle in the whole party. A piece of buffalo 
robe girthed over the horse's back served in the place of 
the one. and a cord of twisted hair lashed firmlj^ round his 
lower jaw answered for the other. Eagle feathers were 
dangling from every mane and tail, as insignia of courage 5 
and speed. As for the rider, he wore no other clothing 
than a light cincture at his waist, and a pair of moccasins. 
He had a heavy whip, with a handle of solid elk-horn, and 
a lash of knotted bull-hide, fastened to his wrist b}' an 
ornamental band. His bow was in his hand, and his quiver 10 
of otter or panther skin hung at his .shoulder. Thus 
equipped, some thirt\' of the hunters galloped away toward 
the left, in order to make a circuit under cover of the hills, 
that the buffalo might be assailed on both sides at once. 
The rest impatienth' waited until time enough had elapsed 15 
for their companions to reach the required po.?ition. Then 
riding upward in a body, we gained the ridge of the hill, 
and for the first time came in sight of the buffalo on the plain 
beyond. 

They were a band of cows, four or five hundred in num- 20 
ber, who were crowded together near the bank of a wide 
stream that was soaking across the .sand-beds of the valley. 
This was a large circular ba.sin, .sun-scorched and broken, 
scantily covered with herbage and encompassed with high 
barren hills, from an opening in which we could see our 25 
allies galloping out upon the plain. The wind blew from 
that direction. The buffalo were aware of their approach, 
and had begun to move, though very slowl}^ and in a com- 
pact ma.ss. I have no farther recollection of seeing the game 
until we were in the midst of them, for as we descended the 30 
hill other objects engrossed mj^ attention. Numerous old 
bulls were scattered over the plain, and ungallantly desert- 
ing their charge at our approach, began to wade and plunge 
through the treacherous quick.sands or the .stream, and 
gallop away toward the hills. One old veteran was strug- 35 
gling behind all the rest with one of his forelegs, which 
had been broken by some accident, dangling about use- 
lessly at his .side. His appearance, as he went shambling 
along on three legs, was .so ludicrous that I could not help 
pau.sing for a moment to look at him. As I came near, 40 
he would try to rush upon me, nearl}- throwing himself 



190 THE OREGON TRAIL 

down at every awkward attempt. Looking up, I saw 
the whole body of Indians full a hundred yards in advance. 
I lashed Pauline in pursuit and reached them just in time; 
for as we mingled among them, each hunter, as if by 
5 a common impulse, violently struck his horse, each horse 
sprang forward convulsively, and scattering in the charge 
in order to assail the entire herd at once, we all rushed 
headlong upon the buffalo. We were among them in an 
instant. Amid the trampling and the yells I could see 

lo their dark figures running hither and thither through clouds 
of dust, and the horsemen darting in pursuit. While 
we were charging on one side, our companions had attacked 
the bewildered and panic-stricken herd on the other. The 
uproar and confusion lasted but for a moment. The dust 

15 cleared away, and the buffalo could be seen scattering as 
from a common center, flying over the plain singly, or in 
long files and small compact bodies, while behind each 
followed the Indians, lashing their horses to furious speed, 
forcing them close upon their prey, and yelling as they 

20 launched arrow after arrow into their sides. The large 
black carcasses were strewn thickly over the ground. Here 
and there wounded buffalo were standing, their bleeding 
sides feathered with arrows; and as I rode past them their 
eyes would glare, they would bristle like gigantic cats, and 

25 feebly attempt to rush up and gore my horse. 

I left camp that morning with a philosophic resolution. 
Neither I nor my horse were at that time fit for such sport, 
and I had determined to remain a quiet spectator; but 
amid the rush of horses and buffalo, the uproar and the 

30 dust, I found it impossible to sit still ; and as four or five 
buffalo ran past me in a line, I drove Pauline in pursuit. 
We went plunging close at their heels through the water 
and the quicksands, and clambering the bank, chased them 
through the wild-sage bushes that covered the rising ground 

35 beyond. But neither her native spirit nor the blows of the 
knotted bull-hide could supply the place of poor Pauline's 
exhausted strength. We could not gain an inch upon the 
poor fugitives. At last, however, they came full upon a 
ravine too wide to leap over ; and as this compelled them 

40 to turn abruptly to the left, I contrived to get within ten 
or twelve yards of the hindmost. At this she faced about, 



THE ni'NTING CAMP 191 

bristled angrily, and made a show of charging. I shot at 
her with a large holster pistol, and hit her somewhere in the 
neck. Down she tumbled into the ravine, whither her com- 
panions had descended before her. I saw their dark backs 
appearing and disappearing as they galloped along the bot- 5 
tom; then, one by one, they came scrambhng out on the 
other side and ran off as before, the wounded animal follow- 
ing with unabated speed. 

Turning back, I saw Raymond coming on his black mule 
to meet me ; and as we rode over the field together, we lo 
counted dozens of carasses lying on the plain, in the ravines 
and on the sandv bed of the stream. Far away in the dis- 
tance, horses and buffalo were still scouring along, with 
Httle clouds of dust rising behind them; and over the sides 
of the hills we could see long files of the frightened animals 15 
rapidly ascending. The hunters began to return. The 
boys, who had held the horses behind the hill, made their 
appearance, and the work of flaying and cutting up began 
in earnest all over the field. I noticed my host Kongra- 
Tonga bevond the stream, just ahghting by the side of a 20 
cow which he had killed. Riding up to him I found hmi 
in the act of drawing out an arrow, which, with the ex- 
ception of the notch at the end, had entirely disappeared 
in the animal. I asked him to give it to me, and I still 
retain it as a proof, though bv no means the most striking 25 
one that could be offered, of the force and dexterity with 
which the Indians discharge their arrows. 

The hides and meat were piled upon the horses, and the 
hunters began to leave the ground. Raymond and I, too, 
getting tired of the scene, set out for the village, ridmg 3° 
straight across the intervening desert. There was no path, 
and as far as I could see, no landmarks sufficient to guide 
us; but Raymond seemed to have an instinctive percep- 
tion of the ipoint on the horizon toward which we ought 
to direct our course. Antelope were bounding on all sides, 35 
and as is always the case in the presence of buffalo, they 
seemed to have lost their natural shyness and timidity. 
Bands of them would run lightly up the rocky declivities 
and stand gazing down upon us from the summit. At 
length we could distinguish the tall white rocks and the 40 
old pine trees that, as we well remembered, were just above 



192 THE OREGON TRAIL 

the site of the encampment. Still, we could see nothing 
of the village itself until, ascending a grassy hill, we found 
the circle of lodges, dingy with storms and smoke, standing 
on the plain at our very feet. 

5 I entered the lodge of my host. His squaw instantly 
brought me food and water, and spread a buffalo robe for 
me to He upon; and being much fatigued, I lay down and 
fell asleep. In about an hour the entrance of Kongra- 
Tonga, with his arms smeared with blood to the elbows, 

lo awoke me. He sat down in his usual seat on the left side 
of the lodge. His squaw gave him a vessel of water for 
washing, set before him a bowl of boiled meat, and as he 
was eating pulled off his bloody moccasins and placed 
fresh ones on his feet; then outstretching his limbs, my 

15 host composed himself to sleep. 

And now the hunters, two or three at a time, began to 
come rapidly in, and each, consigning his horses to the 
squaws, entered his lodge with the air of a man whose 
day's work was done. The squaws flung down the load 

20 from the burdened horses, and vast piles of meat and hides 
were soon accumulated before every lodge. By this time 
it was darkening fast, and the whole village was illumined 
by the glare of fires blazing all around. All the squaws 
and children were gathered about the piles of meat, exploring 

25 them in search of the daintiest portions. Some of these 
they roasted on sticks before the fires, but often they dis- 
pensed with this superfluous operation. Late into the night 
the fires were still glowing upon the groups of feasters en- 
gaged in this savage banquet around them. 

30 Several hunters sat down by the fire in Kongra-Tonga's 
lodge to talk over the day's exploits. Among the rest, 
Mene-Seela came in. Though he must have seen full 
eighty winters, he had taken an active share in the day's 
sport. He boasted that he had killed two cows that morn- 

35 ing, and would have killed a third if the dust had not 
blinded him so that he had to drop his bow and arrows 
and press both hands against his eyes to stop the pain. 
The firelight fell upon his wrinkled face and shriveled 
figure as he sat telling his story with such inimitable ges- 

40 ticulation that every man in the lodge broke into a laugh. 
Old Mene-Seela was one of the few Indians in the vil- 



THE HUNTING CAMP 193 



lage with whom I would have trusted myself alone with- 
out suspicion, and the only one from whom I would have 
received a gift or a service without the certainty that it 
proceeded from an interested motive. He was a great 
friend to the whites. He liked to be in their society, and 5 
was very vain of the favors he had received from them. 
He told me one afternoon, as we were sitting together in 
his son's lodge, that he considered the beaver and the 
whites the wisest people on earth; indeed, he was con- 
vinced they were the same; and an incident which had 10 
happened to him long before had assured him of this. So 
he began the following story, and as the pipe passed in 
turn to him, Reynal availed himself of these interruptions 
to translate what had preceded. But the old man accom- 
panied his words with such admirable pantomime that 15 
translation was hardly necessary. 

He said that when he was very young, and had never 
yet seen a white man, he and three or four of his com- 
panions were out on a beaver hunt, and he crawled into 
a large beaver lodge, to examine what was there. Some- 20 
times he was creeping on his hands and knees, sometimes 
he was obliged to swim, and sometimes to lie flat on his 
face .and drag himself along. In this way he crawled a 
great distance underground. It was very dark, cold, and 
close, so that at last he was almost suffocated, and fell 25 
into a swoon. When he began to recover, he could just 
distinguish the voices of his companions outside, who had 
given him up for lost, and were singing his death song. 
At first he could see nothing, but soon he discerned some- 
thing white before him, and at length plainly distinguished 3° 
three people, entirely white; one man and two women, 
sitting at the edge of a black pool of water. He became 
alarmed and thought it high time to retreat. Having suc- 
ceeded, after great trouble, in reaching daylight again, he 
went straight to the spot directly above the pool of water 35 
where he had seen the three mysterious beings. Here he 
beat a hole with his war club in the ground, and sat down 
to watch. In a moment the nose of an old male beaver 
appeared at the opening. Mene-Seela instantly seized him 
and dragged him up, when two other beavers, both females, 40 
thrust out their heads, and these he served in the same 



194 THE OREGON TRAIL 

way. "These," continued the old man, "must have been 
the three white people whom I saw sitting at the edge of 
the water." 

Mene-Seela was the grand depository of the legends 
5 and traditions of the village. I succeeded, however, in 
getting from him only a few fragments. Like all Indians, 
he was excessively superstitious, and continually saw 
some reason for withholding his stories. "It is a bad 
thing," he would say, "to tell the tales in summer. Stay 

lo with us till next winter, and I will tell you everything I 
know; but now our war parties are going out, and our 
young men will be killed if I sit down to tell stories before 
the frost begins." 

But to leave this digression. We remained encamped 

15 on this spot five days, during three of which the hunters 
were at work incessantly, and immense quantities of meat 
and hides were brought in. Great alarm, however, pre- 
vailed in the village. All were on the alert. The young 
men were ranging through the country as scouts, and the 

20 old men paid careful attention to omens and prodigies, 
and especially to their dreams. In order to convey to 
the enemy (who, if they were in the neighborhood, must 
inevitably have known of our presence) the impression 
that we were constantly on the watch, piles of sticks and 

25 stones were erected on all the surrounding hills, in such a 
manner as to appear at a distance like sentinels. Often, 
even to this hour, that scene will rise before my mind like 
a visible reality : the tall white rocks ; the old pine trees 
on their summits; the sandy stream that ran along their 

30 bases and half encircled the village ; and the wild-sage 
bushes, with their dull green hue and their medicinal odor, 
that covered all the neighboring declivities. Hour after 
hour the squaws would pass and repass with their vessels 
of water between the stream and the lodges. For the 

35 most part no one was to be seen in the camp but women 
and children, two or three superannuated old men, and a 
few lazy and worthless young ones. These, together 
with the dogs, now grown fat and good-natured with the 
abundance in the camp, were its only tenants. Still it 

40 presented a busy and busthng scene. In all quarters the 
meat, hung on cords of hide, was drying in the sun, and 



THE EUyTiyG CAMP 195 

around the lodges the squaws, young and old. were labor- 
ing on the fresh hides that were stretched upon the ground 
^crapintr the hair from one side and the still adhering flesh 
froni the other, and rubbing into them the brains of the 
buffalo, in order to render them soft and pUant. a 

In mercv to mvself and i?iv horse, I never went out 
\\-ith the hunters after the first day. Of late, however, I 
had been gaining strength rapidly, as was always the case 
upon ever\- respite of mv disorder. I was soon able to 
walk \^-ith*ease. Ra^Tnond and I would go out upon the lo 
neighboring prairies 'to shoot antelope, or sometimes to 
assail -traf^hng bufifalo, on foot, an attempt m which we 
met with rathei indifferent success. To kill a buU with a 
rifle-ball is a diflacult art. in the secret of which I was as 
vet verj- imperfectlv initiated. As I came out of Kongra- 15 
Tonga'^' lodge one' morning, Reynal called to me from 
the opposite"' side of the viUage, and asked me over to 
breakfast. The breakfast was a substantial one. It con- 
sisted of the rich, juicv humi>-ribs of a fat cow; a repast 
absolutelv unrivaled. ' It wa.s roasting before the fire 20 
impaled upon a stout stick, which RejTial took up and 
planted in the ground before his lodge; when he, with 
Ravmond and mvself, taking our seats around it, un- 
sheathed our knives and assailed it with good will. In 
spite of all medical experience, this sohd fare, without 2-. 
bread or salt, seemed to agree with me admirably. 

•■ We shall have strangers here before night, said Reynal. 
"How do vou know that ?"' I asked. 
'•I dreamed so. I am as good at dreaming as an In- 
dian There is The Hail-Storm; he dreamed the same 30 
thing, and he and his crony, The Rabbit, have gone out 
on discoverv." 

I lauo-hed at Revnal for his creduhty, went over to my 
ho-fs lodge, took* down mv rifle, walked out a mile or 
two on the prairie, saw an old bull standing alone, crawled 35 
up a ra\'ine, shot him. and saw him escape. Then, quite 
exhausted and rather ill-humored. I walked back to the 
village Bv a strange coincidence, Reynal's prediction 
had been verified; for the first persons whom I saw were 
the two trappers, Rouleau and Saraphin. coming to meet 40 
me These men, as the reader may possibly recollect, 



196 THE OREGON TRAIL 



had left our party about a fortnight before. They had 
been trapping for a while among the Black hills, and were 
now^ on their way to the Rocky mountains, intending in a 
day or two to set out for the neighboring Medicine Bow. 
5 They were not the most elegant or refined of companions, 
yet they made a very welcome addition to the limited 
society of the village. For the rest of that day we lay 
smoking and talking in Reynal's lodge. This indeed was 
no better than a little hut, made of hides stretched on 

lo poles, and entirely open in front. It was well carpeted 
with soft buffalo robes, and here we remained, sheltered 
from the sun, surrounded by various domestic utensils of 
Madame Margot's household. All was quiet in the village. 
Though the hunters had not gone out that day, they lay 

15 sleeping in their lodges, and most of the women were 
silently engaged in their heavy tasks. A few young men 
were playing at a lazy game of ball in the center of the 
village; and when they became tired, some girls supplied 
their place with a more boisterous sport. At a little dis- 

20 tance, among the lodges, some children and half-grown 
squaws were playfully tossing up one of their number in 
a buffalo robe, an exact counterpart of the ancient pastime 
from which Sancho Panza° suffered so much. Farther out 
on the prairie, a host of little naked boys were roaming 

25 about, engaged in various rough games, or pursuing birds 
and ground-squirrels with their bows and arrows; and 
woe to the unhappy httle animals that fell into their mer- 
ciless, torture-loving hands ! A squaw from the next 
lodge, a notable active housewife named Weah Washtay, 

3,0 or Good Woman, brought us a large bowl of ivasna, and 
went into an ecstasy of delight when I presented her with 
a green glass ring, such as I usually wore with a view to 
similar occasions. 

The sun went dowm and half the sky was growing fiery 

35 red, reflected on the little stream as it wound a^yay among 
the sage-bushes. Some young men left the village, and 
soon returned, driving in before them all the horses, hun- 
dreds in number, and of every size, age, and color. The 
hunters came out, and each securing those that belonged 

40 to him, examined their condition, and tied them fast by 
long cords to stakes driven in front of his lodge. It was 



THE HUNTING CAMP 197 

half an hour before the bustle subsided and tranquillity 
was restored again. By this time it was nearly dark 
Kettles were hung over the blazing fires around which 
the squaws were gathered with their children laughing 
and talking merrily. A circle of a different kmd was 5 
formed in the center of the- village. This was composed 
of the old men and warriors of repute who with tneir 
white buffalo robes drawn close around their shoulders, 
sat together, and as the pipe passed from hand to hand 
their Conversation had not a particle of the gravity and 10 
reserve usually ascribed to Indians. I sat down with 
them as usual. I had in my hand half a dozen sqmbs 
and serpents, which I had made one day when encamped 
upon Laramie creek, out of gunpowder and charcoal, and 
the leaves of Fremont's Expedition,^ rolled round a fout 15 
lead pencil. I waited till I contrived to .§et hold of the 
large piece of burning hois de vache which the Indians 
kept by them on the ground for lighting their pipes. With 
this I lighted all the fireworks at once, and tossed them 
whizzing and sputtering into the air over the heads of the 20 
company. They all jumped up and ran off with yelps ot 
astonishment and consternation. After a moment or two, 
thev ventured to come back one by one, and some ot tne 
boldest, picking up the cases of burnt paper that were 
scattered about, examined them with eager curiosity toss 
discover their mysterious secret. From that time forward 
I enioyed great repute as a " fire-medicme.'' ^ , . 

The camp was filled with the low hum of cheerful voices 
There were other sounds, however, of a very different 
kind, for from a large lodge, lighted up Hke a gigantic Ian- 30 
tern by the blazing fire within, came a chorus of dismal 
cries and wailings, long drawn out, hke the howling of 
wolves and a woman, almost naked, was crouching close 
outside, crying violently, and gashing her legs with a knite 
till they were covered with blood. Just a year before a 3S 
young man belonging to this family had gone out with a 
war party and had been slain by the enemy, and his rela- 
tives were thus lamenting his loss. Still other sounds might 
be heard; loud earnest cries often repeated from amid tne 
oloom, at a distance beyond the village. They proceeded 40 
from some young men who, being about to set out in a lew 



198 THE OREGON TRAIL 

days on a warlike expedition, were standing at the top of a 
hill, calling on the Great Spirit to aid them in their enter- 
prise. While I was listening, Rouleau, with a laugh on his 
careless face, called to me and directed my attention to 

5 another quarter. In front of the lodge where Weah Wash- 
tay lived another squaw was standing, angrily scolding an 
old yellow dog, who lay on the ground with his nose resting 
between his paws, and his eyes turned sleepily up to her 
face, as if he were pretending to give respectful attention, 

lo but resolved to fall asleep as soon as it was all over. 

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself!" said the old 
woman. "I have fed you well, and taken care of you 
ever since you were small and blind, and could only crawl 
about and squeal a little, instead of howling as you do now, 

15 When you grew old, I said you were a good dog. You were 
strong and gentle when the load was put on your back, 
and you never ran among the feet of the horses when we 
were all travehng together over the prairie. But you had 
a bad heart ! WhencA-er a rabbit jumped out of the bushes, 

20 you were always the first to run after him and lead away 
all the other dogs behind you. You ought to have known 
that it was very dangerous to act so. When you had got 
far out on the prairie, and no one was near to help you, per- 
haps a wolf would jump out of the ravine; and then what 

25 could you do ? You would certainly have been killed, for 
no dog can fight well with a load on his back. Only three 
days ago you ran off in that way, and turned over the bag 
of wooden pins with which I used to fasten up the front of 
the lodge. Look up there, and you will see that it is all 

30 flapping open. And now to-night you have stolen a great 
piece of fat meat which was roasting before the fire for my 
children. I tell you, you have a bad heart, and you must 
die!" 

So saying, the squaw went into the lodge, and coming 

35 out with a large stone mallet, killed the unfortunate dog 
at one blow. This speech is worthy of notice as illustrat- 
ing a curious characteristic of the Indians : the ascribing 
intelligence and a power of understanding speech to the 
inferior animals, to whom, indeed, according to many of 

40 their traditions, they are linked in close affinity, and they 
even claim the honor of a lineal descent from bears, wolves, 
deer, or tortoises. 



THE HUNTING CAMP 199 

As it grew late, and the crowded population began to 
disappear, I too walked across the village to the lodge of 
my host, Kongra-Tonga. As I entered I saw him, by the 
flickering blaze of the fire in the center, reclining half 
asleep in his usual place. His couch was by no means 5 
an uncomfortable one. It consisted of soft buffalo robes 
laid together on the ground, and a pillow made of whit- 
ened deerskin stuffed with feathers and ornamented with 
beads. At his back was a light framework of poles and 
slender reeds, against which he could lean with ease when 10 
in a sitting posture; and at the top of it, just above his 
head, his bow and quiver were hanging. His squaw, a 
laughing, broad-faced woman, apparently had not yet 
completed her domestic arrangements, for she was bustling 
about the lodge, pulling over the utensils and the bales of 15 
dried meats that were ranged carefully round it. Unhap- 
pily, she and her partner were not the only tenants of the 
dwelhng, for half a dozen children were scattered about, 
sleeping in every imaginable posture. My saddle was in 
its place at the head of the lodge and a buffalo robe was 20 
spread on the ground before it. Wrapping myself in my 
blanket I lay down, but had I not been extremely fatigued 
the noise in the next lodge would have prevented my sleep- 
ing. There was the monotonous thumping of the Indian 
drum, mixed with occasional sharp yells, and a chorus 25 
chanted by twenty voices. A grand scene of gambling was 
going forward with all the appropriate formalities. The 
players were staking on the chance issue of the game their 
ornaments, their horses, and as the excitement rose, their 
garments, and even their weapons, for desperate gambling is 30 
not confined to the hells of Paris. The men of the plains and 
the forests no less resort to it as a violent but grateful relief 
to the tedious monotony of their hves, which alternate be- 
tween fierce excitement and hstless inaction. I fell asleep 
with the dull notes of the drum still sounding on my ear, but 35 
these furious orgies lasted without intermission till day- 
light. I was soon awakened by one of the children crawl- 
ing over me, while another larger one was tugging at my 
blanket and nestling himself in a very disagreeable proxim- 
ity. I immediately repelled these advances by punching 40 
the heads of these miniature savages with a short sticl^ 



200 THE OREGON TRAIL 

which I always kept by me for the purpose ; and as sleeping 
half the day and eating much more than is good for them 
makes them extremely restless, this operation usually had 
to be repeated four or five times in the course of the night. 
5 My host himself was the author of another most formid- 
able annoyance. All these Indians, and he among the 
rest, think themselves bound to the constant performance 
of certain acts as the condition on which their success in 
life depends, whether in war, love, hunting, or any other 

lo employment. These "medicines," as they are called in 
that country, which are usually communicated in dreams, 
are often absurd enough. Some Indians will strike the 
butt of the pipe against the ground every time they smoke; 
others will insist that everything they say shall be inter- 

15 preted by contraries; and Shaw once met an old man who 
conceived that all would be lost unless he compelled every 
white man he met to drink a bowl of cold water. My host 
was particularly unfortunate in his allotment. The Great 
Spirit had told him in a dream that he must sing a certain 

20 song in the middle of every night ; and regularly at about 
twelve o'clock his dismal monotonous chanting would 
awaken me, and I would see him seated bolt upright on his 
couch, going through his dolorous performances with a most 
business-like air. There were other voices of the night still 

25 more inharmonious. Twice or thrice, between sunset and 
dawn, all the dogs in the village, and there were hundreds 
of them, would bay and yelp in chorus; a most horrible 
clamor, resembling no sound that I have ever heard, except 
perhaps the frightful howling of wolves that we used some- 

30 times to hear long afterward when descending the Arkansas 
on the trail of General Kearny's army.° The canine uproar 
is, if possible, more discordant than that of the wolves. 
Heard at a distance, slowly rising on the night, it has a 
strange unearthly effect, and would fearfully haunt the 

35 dreams of a nervous man ; but when you are sleeping in the 
midst of it the din is outrageous. One long loud howl from 
the next lodge perhaps begins it, and voice after voice takes 
up the sound till it passes around the whole circumference 
of the village, and the air is filled with confused and dis- 

40 cordant cries, at once fierce and mournful. It lasts but for 
a moment and then dies away into silence. 



THE HUNTING CAMP 201 

Morning came, and Kongra-Tonga, mounting his horse, 
rode out with the hunters. It may not be amiss to glance at 
him for an instant in his domestic character of husband and 
father. Both he and his squaw, hke most other Indians, 
were very fond of their children, whom they indulged to s 
excess, and never punished, except in extreme cases when 
they would throw a bowl of cold water over them. Their 
offspring became sufficiently undutiful and disobedient 
under this system of education, which tends not a httle to 
foster that wild idea of liberty and utter intolerance of lo 
restraint which lie at the very foundation of the Indian 
character. It would be hard to find a fonder father than 
Kongra-Tonga. There was one urchin in particular, 
rather less than two feet high, to whom he was exceed- 
ingly attached; and sometimes spreading a buffalo robe 15 
in the lodge, he would seat himself upon it, place his small 
favorite upright before him, and chant in a low tone some 
of the words used as an accompaniment to the war dance. 
The little fellow, who could just manage to balance himself 
by stretching out both arms, would lift his feet and turn 20 
slowly round and round in time to his father's music, while 
my host would laugh with dehght, and look smiling up into 
my face to see if I were admiring this precocious performance 
of his offspring. In his capacity of husband he was some- 
what less exemplary. The squaw who lived in the lodge 25 
with him had been his partner for many years. She took 
good care of his children and his household concerns. He 
liked her well enough, and as far as I could see, they never 
quarreled; but all his warmer affections were reserved for 
younger and more recent favorites. Of these he had at 30 
present only one, who lived in a lodge apart from his own. 
One day while in his camp he became displeased with her, 
pushed her out, threw after her her ornaments, dresses, and 
everything she had, and told her to go home to her father. 
Having consummated this summary divorce, for which he 35 
could show good reasons, he came back, seated himself in his 
usual place, and began to smoke with an air of the utmost 
tranquillity and self-satisfaction. 

I was sitting in the lodge with him on that very after- 
noon, when I felt some curiosity to learn the history of 40 
the numerous scars that appeared on his naked body. Of 



202 THE OREGON TRAIL ~ 

some of them, however, I did not venture to inquire, for 
I already understood their origin. Each of his arms was 
marked as if deeply gashed with a knife at regular inter- 
vals, and there were other scars also, of a different charac- 
5 ter, on his back and on either breast. They were the 
traces of those formidable tortures which these Indians, 
in common with a few other tribes, inflict upon them- 
selves at certain seasons; in part, it may be, to gain the 
glory of courage and endurance, but chiefly as an act of 

lo self-sacrifice to secure the favor of the Great Spirit. The 
scars upon the breast and back were produced by running 
through the flesh strong splints of wood, to which ponder- 
ous buffalo-skulls are fastened by cords of hide, and the I 
wretch runs forward with all his strength, assisted by two f 

15 companions, who take hold of each arm, until the flesh 
tears apart and the heavy loads are left behind. Others 
of Kongra-Tonga's scars were the result of accidents; but 
he had many which he received in war. He was one of 
the most noted warriors in the village. In the course of 

20 his life he had slain, as he boasted to me, fourteen men; 
and though, like other Indians, he was a great braggart 
and utterly regardless of truth, yet in this statement com- 
mon report bore him out. Being much flattered by my 
inquiries, he told me tale after tale, true or false, of his 

25 warlike exploits; and there was one among the rest illus- 
trating the worst features of the Indian character too well 
for me to omit it. Pointing out of the opening of the lodge 
toward the Medicine-Bow mountain, not many miles dis- ^ 
tant, he said that he was there a few summers ago with a * 

30 war party of his young men. Here they found two Snake 
Indians, hunting. They shot one of them with arrows and 
chased the other up the side of the mountain till they sur- 
rounded him on a level place, and Kongra-Tonga himself, 
jumping forward among the trees, seized him by the arm. 

35 Two of his young men then ran up and held him fast while 
he scalped him alive. They then built a great fire, and 
cutting the tendons of their captive's wrists and feet, 
threw him in, and held him down with long poles until he 
was burnt to death. He garnished his story with a great 

40 many descriptive particulars much too revolting to men- 
tion. His features were remarkably mild and open, with- 



THE HUNTING CAMP 203 

out the fierceness of expression common among these In- 
dians ; and as he detailed these devihsh cruelties, he looked 
up into my face with the same air of earnest simplicity 
which a little child would wear in relating to its mother 
some anecdote of its youthful experience. 5 

Old Mene-Seela's lodge could offer another illustration 
of the ferocity of Indian warfare. A bright-eyed, active 
little boy was living there. He had belonged to a village 
of the Gros- Ventre Blackfeet, a small but bloody and 
treacherous band, in close alliance with the Arapahoes, lo 
About a year before, Kongra- Tonga and a party of war- 
riors had found about twenty lodges of these Indians 
upon the plains a little to the eastward of our present 
camp; and surrounding them in the night, they butchered 
men, women, and children without mercy, preserving 15 
only this little boy alive. He was adopted into the old 
man's family, and was now fast becoming identified with 
the OgaUallah children, among whom he mingled on equal 
terms. There was also a Crow warrior in the village, a 
man of gigantic stature and most symmetrical proportions. 20 
Having been taken prisoner many years before and adopted 
by a squaw in place of a son whom she had lost, he had for- 
gotten, his old national antipathies, and was now both in 
act and inclination an OgaUallah. 

It will be remembered that the scheme of the grand 25 
warlike combination against the Snake and Orow Indians 
originated in this village; and though this plan had fallen 
to the ground, the embers of the martial ardor continued to 
glow brightly. Eleven young men had prepared them- 
selves to go out against the enemy. The fourth day of 30 
our stay in this camp was fixed upon for their departure. 
At the head of this party was a well-built active little 
Indian, called The White Shield, whom I had always 
noticed for the great neatness of his dress and appearance. 
His lodge too, though not a large one, was the best in the 35 
village, his squaw was one of the prettiest girls, and alto- 
gether his dwelling presented a complete model of an 
OgaUallah domestic establishment. I was often a visitor 
there, for The White Shield being rather partial to white 
men, used to invite me to continual feasts at all hours of 4° 
the day. Once when the substantial part of the entertain- 



204 THE OREGON TRAIL 



ment was concluded, and he and I were seated cross-legged 
on a buffalo robe smoking together very amicably, he took 
down his warlike equipments, which were hanging around 
the lodge, and displayed them with great pride and self- 
5 importance. Among the rest was a most superb headdress 
of feathers. Taking this from its case, he put it on and 
stood before me, as if conscious of the gallant air which it 
gave to his dark face and his vigorous, graceful figure. He •. 
told me that upon it were the feathers of three war-eagles, 

lo equal in value to the same number of good horses. He 
took up also a shield gayly painted and hung with feathers. 
The effect of these barbaric ornaments was admirable, for 
they were arranged with no little skiU and taste. His 
quiver was made of the spotted skin of a small panther, such 

15 as are common among the Black hills, from which the tail 
and distended claws were still allowed to hang. The White 
Shield concluded his entertainment in a manner charac- 
teristic of an Indian. He begged of me a little powder and 
ball, for he had a gun as well as bow and arrows ; but this 

20 I was obliged to refuse, because I had scarcely enough for 

my own use. Making him, however, a parting present of a 

paper of vermilion, I left him apparently quite contented. 

Unhappily on the next morning The White Shield took 

cold and was attacked with a violent inflammation of the 

25 throat. Immediately he seemed to lose all spirit, and 
though before no warrior in the village had borne himself 
more proudly, he now moped about from lodge to lodge 
with a forlorn and dejected air. At length he came and * 
sat down, close wrapped in his robe, before the lodge of I 

30 Reynal, but when he found that neither he nor I knew » 
how to relieve him, he arose and stalked over to one of 
medicine-men of the village. This old impostor thumped 
him for some time with both fists, howled and yelped over 
h,m, and beat a drum close to his ear to expel the evil 

35 spirit that had taken possession of him. This vigorous 
treatment failing of the desired effect. The White Shield 
withdrew to his own lodge, where he lay disconsolate for 
some hours. Making his appearance once more in the 
afternoon, he again took his seat on the ground before 

40 Reynal's lodge, holding his throat with his hand. For 
some time he sat perfectly silent with his eyes fixed mourn- 



THE HUNTING CAMP 205 

fully on the ground. At last he began to speak in a low 
tone: 

"I am a brave man," he said; "all the young men 
think me a great warrior, and ten of them are ready to go 
with me to the war. I will go and show them the enemy. 5 
Last summer the Snakes killed my brother. I cannot Jive 
unless I revenge his death. To-morrow we will set out and 
I will take their scalps." 

The White Shield, as he expressed this resolution, seemed 
to have lost all the accustomed fire and spirit of his look, 10 
and hung his head as if in a fit of despondency. 

As I was sitting that evening at one of the fires, I saw 
him arrayed in his splendid war dress, his cheeks painted 
with vermilion, leading his favorite war horse to the front 
of his lodge. He mounted and rode round the village, 15 
singing his war song in a loud hoarse voice amid the shrill 
acclamations of the women. Then dismounting, he re- 
mained for some minutes prostrate upon the ground, as if 
in an act of supplication. On the following morning I 
looked in vain for the departure of the warriors. All 20 
was quiet in the village until late in the forenoon, when 
The White Shield, issuing from his lodge, came and seated 
himself in his old place before us. Reynal asked him why 
he had not gone out to find the enemy. 

"I cannot go," answered The White Shield in a dejected 25 
voice. "I have given my war arrows to the Meneaska." 

"You have only given him two of your arrows," said 
Reynal. "If you ask him, he will give them back again." 

For some time The White Shield said nothing. At last 
he spoke in a gloomy tone : — 3° 

"One of my young men has had bad dreams. The 
spirits of the dead came and threw stones at him in his 
sleep." 

If such a dream had actually taken place it might hate 
broken up this or any other war party, but both Reynal 35 
and I were convinced at the time that it was a mere fabri- 
cation to excuse his remaining at home. 

The White Shield was a warrior of noted prowess. Very 
probably, he would have received a mortal wound without 
the show of pain, and endured without flinching the worst 40 
tortures that an enemy could inflict upon him. The whole 



206 THE OREGON TRAIL 



power of an Indian's nature would be summoned to en- 
counter such a trial; every influence of his education from 
childhood would have prepared him for it ; the cause of his . 
suffering would have been visibly and palpably before him, ? 
5 and his spirit would rise to set his enemy at defiance, and I 
gain the highest glory of a warrior by meeting death with 1 
fortitude. But when he feels himself attacked by a myste- \ 
rious evil, before whose insidious assaults his manhood is { 
wasted, and his strength drained away, when he can see no 

lo enemy to resist and defy, the boldest warrior falls prostrate 
at once. He believes that a bad spirit has taken possession 
of him, or that he is the victim of some charm. When 
suffering from a protracted disorder, an Indian will often 
abandon himself to his supposed destiny, pine away and die, 

15 the victim of his own imagination. The same effect will 
often follow from a series of calamities, or a long run of ill 
success, and the sufferer has been known to ride into the 
midst of an enemy's camp, or attack a grizzly bear single- 
handed, to get rid of a life which he supposed to lie under 

20 the doom of misfortune. 

Thus after all his fasting, dreaming, and calling upon 
the Great Spirit, The White Shield's war party was pitifully 
broken up. 



CHAPTER XVI 

THE TRAPPERS 

In speaking of the Indians, I have almost forgotten 
two bold adventurers of another race, the trappers Rouleau 
and Saraphin. These men were bent on a most hazard- 
ous enterprise. A day's journey to the westward was 
the country over which the Arapahoes are accustomed to 5 
range, and for which the two trappers were on the point 
of setting out. These Arapahoes, of whom Shaw and I 
afterward fell in with a large village, are ferocious bar- 
barians, of a most brutal and wolfish aspect, and of late 
they had declared themselves enemies to the whites, and 10 
threatened death to the first who should venture within 
their territory. The occasion of the declaration was as 
follow^ : 

In the previous spring, 1845, Colonel Kearny left Fort 
Leavenworth with several companies of dragoons, and 15 
marching with extraordinary celerity reached Fort Laramie, 
whence he passed along the foot of the mountains to Bent's 
Fort° and then, turning eastward again, returned to the 
point from whence he set out. While at Fort Laramie, 
he sent a part of his command as far westward as Sweet- 20 
water, while he himself remained at the fort, and dispatched 
messages to the surrounding Indians to meet him there in 
council. Then for the first time the tribes of that vicinity 
saw the white warriors, and, as might have been expected, 
they were lost in astonishment at their regular order, their 25 
gay attire, the completeness of their martial equipment, 
and the great size and power of their horses. Among the 
rest, the Arapahoes came in considerable numbers to the 
fort. They had lately committed numerous acts of out- 
rage, and Colonel Kearny threatened that if they killed any 30 
more white men he would turn loose his dragoons upon 

207 



208 THE OREGON TRAIL 

them, and annihilate their whole nation. In the evening, 
to add effect to his speech, he ordered a howitzer° to be fired 
and a rocket to be thrown up. Many of the Arapahoes fell 
prostrate on the ground, while others ran away screaming 
5 with amazement and terror. On the following day they 
withdrew to their mountains, confounded with awe at the 
appearance of the dragoons, at their big gun which went 
off twice at one shot, and the fiery messenger which they 
had sent up to the Great Spirit. For many months they 

lo remained quiet, and did no further mischief. At length, J 
just before we came into the country, one of them, by an ] 
act of the basest treachery, killed two white men, Boot and 
May, who were trapping among the mountains. For this 
act it was impossible to discover a motive. It seemed to 

15 spring from one of those inexplicable impulses which often 
actuate Indians and appear no better than the mere out- 
breaks of native ferocity. No sooner was the murder 
committed than the whole tribe were in extreme consterna- 
tion. They expected every day that the avenging dra- 

20 goons would arrive, little thinking that a desert of nine 
hundred miles in extent lay between the latter and their 1 
mountain fastnesses. A large deputation of them came | 
to Fort Laramie, bringing a valuable present of horses, ^ 
in compensation for the lives of the murdered men. These 

25 Bordeaux refused to accept. They then asked him if he 
would be satisfied with their delivering up the murderer 
himself; but he declined this offer also. The Arapahoes 
went back more terrified than ever. Weeks passed away, 
and still no dragoons appeared. A result followed which 

30 all those best acquainted with Indians had predicted. 
They conceived that fear had prevented Bordeaux from 
accepting their gifts, and that they had nothing to appre- 
hend from the vengeance of the whites. From terror they 
rose to the height of insolence and presumption. They 

35 called the white men cowards and old women; and a 
friendly Dahcotah came to Fort Laramie and reported 
that they were determined to kill the first of the white dogs 
whom they could lay hands on. 

Had a military officer, intrusted with suitable powers, 

40 been stationed at Fort Laramie, and having accepted the 
offer of the Arapahoes to deliver up the murderer, had or- 



THE TRAPPERS 209 



dered him to be immediately led out and shot, in presence of 
his tribe, they would have been awed into tranquillity, 
and much danger and calamity averted; but now the 
neighborhood of the Medicine-Bow mountain and the re- 
gion beyond it was a scene of extreme peril. Old Mene- 5 
Seela, a true friend of the whites, and many other of the 
Indians gathered about the two trappers, and vainly en- 
deavored to turn them from their purpose; but Rouleau 
and Saraphin only laughed at the danger. On the morn- 
ing preceding that on which they were to leave the camp, 10 
we could all discern faint white columns of smoke rising 
against the dark base of the Medicine-Bow. Scouts were 
out immediately, and reported that these proceeded from 
an Arapahoe camp, abandoned only a few hours before. 
Still the two trappers continued their preparations for 15 
departure. 

Saraphin was a tall, powerful fellow, with a sullen and 
sinister countenance. His rifle had very probably drawn 
other blood than that of buffalo or even Indians. Rouleau 
had a broad ruddy face, marked with as few traces of 20 
thought or of care as a child's. His figure was remarkably 
square and strong, but the first joints of both his feet were 
frozen- off, and his horse had lately thrown and trampled 
upon him, by which he had been severely injured in the 
chest. But nothing could check his inveterate propensity 25 
for laughter and gayety. He went all day rolling about 
the camp on his stumps of feet, talking and singing and 
frolicking with the Indian women, as they were engaged 
at their work. In fact Rouleau had an unlucky partiality 
for squaws. He always had one whom he must needs 30 
bedizen with beads, ribbons, and all the finery of an Indian 
wardrobe; and though he was of course obliged to leave 
her behind him during his expeditions, yet this hazardous 
necessity did not at all trouble him, for his disposition was 
the very reverse of jealous. If at any time he had not 35 
lavished the whole of the precarious profits of his vocation 
upon his dark favorite, he always devoted the rest to feast- 
ing his comrades. If liquor was not to be had — and this 
was usually the case — strong coffee was substituted. As 
the men of that region are by no means remarkable for 40 
providence or self-restraint, whatever was set before them 
p 



210 THE OREGON TRAIL 



on these occasions, however extravagant in price, or enor- 
mous in quantity, was sure to be disposed of at one sitting. 
Like other trappers, Rouleau's life was one of contrast and 
variety. It was only at certain seasons, and for a limited 
5 time, that he was absent on his expeditions. For the rest 
of the year he would be lounging about the fort, or encamped 
with his friends in its vicinity, lazily hunting or enjoying 
all the luxury of inaction ; but when once in pursuit of the 
beaver, he was involved in extreme privations and des- 

loperate perils. When in the midst of his game and his 
enemies, hand and foot, eye and ear, are incessantly active. 
Frequently he must content himself with devouring his 
evening meal uncooked, lest the light of his fire should 
attract the eyes of some wandering Indian ; and sometimes 

15 having made his rude repast, he must leave his fire still 
blazing, and withdraw to a distance under cover of the dark- 
ness, that his disappointed enemy, drawn thither by the 
light, may find his victim gone, and be unable to trace his 
footsteps in the gloom. This is the life led by scores of men 

20 in the Rocky mountains and their vicinity. I once met a 
trapper whose breast was marked with the scars of six 
bullets and arrows, one of his arms broken by a shot and 
one of his knees shattered; yet still, with the undaunted 
mettle of New England, from which part of the country he 

25 had come, he continued to follow his perilous occupation. 
To some of the children of cities it may seem strange that 
men with no object in view should continue to follow^ a life 
of such hardship and desperate adventure; yet there is a 
mysterious, restless charm in the basilisk® eye of danger, 

30 and few men perhaps remain long in that wild region with- 
out learning to love peril for its own sake, and to laugh 
carelessly in the face of death. 

On the last day of our stay in this camp, the trappers 
were ready for departure. When in the Black hills they 

35 had caught seven beaver, and they now left their skins in 
charge of Reynal, to be kept until their return. Their 
strong, gaunt horses were equipped with rusty Spanish bits 
and rude Mexican saddles, to w^hich wooden stirrups were 
attached, w^hile a buffalo robe was rolled up behind them, 

40 and a bundle of beaver traps slung at the pommel. These, 
together with their rifles, their knives, their powder-horns 



THE TRAPPERS 211 

and bullet-pouches, flint and steel and a tin cup, composed 
their whole traveling equipment. They shook hands with 
us and rode away; Saraphin with his grim countenance, 
like a surly bulldog's, was in advance; but Rouleau, clam- 
bering gayly into his seat, kicked his horse's sides, flour- 5 
ished his whip in the air, and trotted briskly over the prairie, 
trolling forth a Canadian song at the top of his lungs. 
Reynal looked after them with his face of brutal selfishness. 

" Well," he said, ''if they are killed, I shall have the beaver. 
They'll fetch me fifty dollars at the fort, anyhow." 10 

This was the last I saw of them. 

We had been for five days in the hunting-camp, and 
the meat, which all this time had hung drying in the sun, 
was now fit for transportation. Buffalo hides also had 
been procured in sufficient quantities for making the next 15 
season's lodges ; but it remained to provide the long slender 
poles on which they were to be supported. These were 
only to be had among the tall pine woods of the Black hills, 
and in that direction therefore our next move was to be 
made. It is worthy of notice that amid the general abun- 20 
dance which during this time had prevailed in the camp there 
were no instances of individual privation ; for although the 
hide and the tongue of the buffalo belong by exclusive right 
to the hunter who has killed it, yet any one else is equally 
entitled to help himself from the rest of the carcass. Thus, 25 
the weak, the aged, and even the indolent come in for a 
share of the spoils, and many a helpless old woman, who 
would otherwise perish from starvation, is sustained in 
profuse abundance. 

On the twenty-fifth of July, late in the afternoon, the 30 
camp broke up, with the usual tumult and confusion, and 
we were all moving once more, on horseback and on foot, 
over the plains. We advanced, however, but a few miles. 
The old men, who during the whole march had been stoutly 
striding along on foot in front of the people, now seated 35 
themselves in a circle on the ground, while all the families, 
erecting their lodges in the prescribed order around them, 
formed the usual great circle of the camp ; meanwhile these 
village patriarchs sat smoking and talking. I threw my 
bridle to Raymond, and sat down as usual along with them. 40 
There was none of that reserve and apparent dignity which 



212 THE OREGON TRAIL 

an Indian always assumes when in council, or in the pres- 
ence of white men whom he distrusts. The party, on the 
contrary, was an extremely merry one, and as in a social 
circle of a quite different character, "if there was not much 
5 wit, there was at least a great deal of laughter." ° 

When the first pipe was smoked out, I rose and with- 
drew to the lodge of my host. Here I was stooping, in 
the ret of taking off my powder-horn and bullet-pouch, 
when suddenly, and close at hand, pealing loud and shrilly 

lo and in right good earnest, came the terrific yell of the war- 
whoop. Kongra-Tonga's squaw snatched up her youngest 
child, and ran out of the lodge. I followed, and found the 
whole village in confusion, resounding with cries and yells. 
The circle of old men in the center had vanished. ~ The 

15 warriors with glittering eyes came darting, their weapons 
in their hands, out of the low opening of the lodges, and 
running with wild yells toward the farther end of the vil- 
lage. Advancing a few rods in that direction, I saw a 
crowd in furious agitation, while others ran up on every 

20 Fide to add to the confusion. Just then I distinguished 
the voices of Raymond and Reynal, shouting to me from 
a distance, and looking back, I saw the latter with his 
rifle in his hand, standing on the farther bank of a little 
stream that ran along the outskirts of the camp. He was 

25 calling to Raymond and myself to come over and join 
him, and Raymond, with his usual deliberate gait and 
stolid countenance, .was already moving in that direction. 

This was clearly the wisest course, unless we wished 
to involve ourselves in the fray; so I turned to go, but 

30 just then a pair of eyes, gleaming like a snake's, and an 
aged familiar countenance was thrust from the opening of 
a neighboring lodge, and out bolted old Mene-Seela, full 
of fight, clutching his bow and arrows in one hand and his 
knife in the other. At that instant he tripped and fell 

35 sprawling on his face, while his weapons flew scattering 
away in every direction. The women with loud screams 
were hurrying with their children in their arms to place 
them out of danger, and I observed some hastening to pre- 
vent mischief, by carrying away all the weapons they 

40 could lay hands on. On a rising ground close to the camp 
stood a line of old women singing a medicine song to allay 



THE TRAPPERS 213 

the tumult. As I approached the side of the brook I heard 
gun-shots behind me, and turning back, I saw that the 
crowd had separated into two long Hnes of naked warriors 
confronting each other at a respectful distance, and yelling 
and jumping about to dodge the shot of their adversaries, s 
while they discharged bullets and arrows against each 
other. At the same time certain sharp, humming sounds in 
the air over my head, like the flight of beetles on a summer 
evening, warned me that the danger was not wholly con- 
fined to the immediate scene of the fray. So wading through lo 
the brook, I Joined Reynal and Raymond, and we sat down 
on the grass, in the posture of an armed neutrality, to watch 
the result. 

Happily it may be for ourselves, though quite contrary 
to our expectation, the disturbance was quelled almost 15 
as soon as it had commenced. When I looked again, the 
combatants were once more mingled together in a mass. 
Though yells sounded occasionally from the throng, the fir- 
ing had entirely ceased, and I observed five or six persons 
moving busily about, as if acting the part of peacemakers. 20 
One of the village heralds or criers proclaimed in a loud 
voice something which my two companions were too 
much engrossed in their own observations to translate for 
me. The crowd began to disperse, though many a deep- 
set black eye still glittered with an unnatural luster, as 25 
the warriors slowly withdrew to their lodges. This fortunate 
suppression of the disturbance was owing to a few of the 
old men, less pugnacious than Mene-Seela, who boldly ran 
in between the combatants and aided by some of the "sol- 
diers," or Indian police, succeeded in effecting their object. 30 

It seemed very strange to me that although many arrows 
and bullets were discharged, no one was mortally hurt, and 
I could only account for this by the fact that both the . 
marksman and the object of his aim were leaping about 
incessantly during the whole time. By far the greater part 35 
of the villagers had joined in the fray, for although there 
were not more than a dozen guns in the whole camp, I heard 
at least eight or ten shots fired. 

In a quarter of an hour all was comparatively quiet. A 
large circle of warriors were again seated in the center of 40 
the village, but this time I did not venture to join them, 



214 THE OREGON TRAIL 

because I could see that the pipe, contrary to the usual 
order, was passing from the left hand to the right around 
the circle; a sure sign that a "medicine-smoke" of recon- 
ciliation was going forward, and that a white man would be 
5 an unwelcome intruder. When I again entered the still 
agitated camp it was nearly dark, and mournful cries, 
howls, and wailings resounded from many female voices. 
Whether these had any connection with the late disturb- 
ance, or were merely lamentations for relatives slain in 

lo some former war expeditions, I could not distinctly ascer- 
tain. 

To inquire too closely into the cause of the quarrel was 
by no means prudent, and it was not until some time after 
that I discovered what had given rise to it. Among the 

15 Dahcotahs there are many associations, or fraternities, 
connected with the purposes of their superstitions, their 
warfare, or their social life. There was one called the 
Arrow-Breakers, now in a great measure disbanded and 
dispersed. In the village there were, however, four men 

20 belonging to it, distinguished by the peculiar arrangement 
of their hair, which rose in a high bristling mass above 
their foreheads, adding greatly to their apparent height, 
and giving them a most ferocious appearance. The prin- 
cipal among them was The Mad Wolf, a warrior of remark- 

25 able size and strength, great courage, and the fierceness 
of a demon. I had always looked upon him as the most 
dangerous man in the village; and though he often in- 
vited me to feasts, I never entered his lodge unarmed. 
The Mad Wolf had taken a fancy to a fine horse belong- 

30 ing to another Indian, who was called The Tall Rear; and 
anxious to get the animal into his possession, he made 
the owner a present of another horse nearly equal in value. 
According to the customs of the Dahcotah, the acceptance of 
this gift involved a sort of obligation to make an equitable 

35 return; and The Tall Bear well understood that the other 
had in view the obtaining of his favorite buffalo horse. 
He however accepted the present without a word of thanks, 
and having picketed the horse before his lodge, he suf- 
fered day after day to pass without making the expected 

40 return. The Mad Wolf grew impatient and angry; and 
at last, seeing that his bounty was not likely to produce 



THE TRAPPERS 



215 



the desired return, he resolved to reclaim it. So this even- 
ing, as soon as the village was encamped, he went to the 
lodffe of The Tall Bear, seized upon the horse that he had 
given him, and led him away. At this The Tall Bear broke 
into one of those fits of sullen rage not uncommon among 5 
the Indians. He ran up to the unfortunate horse, and 
eave him three mortal stabs with his knife. Quick as 
lightning The Mad Wolf drew his bow to its utmost ten- 
sion, and held the arrow quivering close to the breast ot 
his Adversary. The Tall Bear, as the Indians who were lo 
near him said, stood with his bloody knife m his hand 
facing the assailant with the utmost calmness. »ome ot 
his friends and relatives, seeing his danger, ran hastily to 
his assistance. The remaining three Arrow-Breakers, on 
the other hand, came to the aid of their associate. Many ^5 
of their friends joined them, the war-cry was raised on a 
sudden, and the tumult became general. 

The ''soldiers," who lent their timely aid in putting 
it down, are by far the most important executive function- 
aries in'an Indian village. The office is one of consider-- 
able honor, being confided only to men of courage and 
rcDute They derive their authority from the old men and 
chief warriors of the village, who elect them m councils 
occasionally convened for the purpose, and thus can ,^f^^J-- 
cise a degree of authority which no one else m the village 25 
would dare to assume. While very few Ogallallah chiefs 
could venture without instant jeopardy of their hves to 
strike or lay hands upon the meanest of their people the 
-soldiers," in the discharge of their appropriate functions 
have full license to make use of these and similar acts ofao 



coercion. 



CHAPTER XVII 

THE BLACK HILLS 



We traveled eastward for two days, and then the gloomy 
ridges of the Black hills rose up before us. The village 
passed along for some miles beneath their declivities trail- 
mg out to a great length over the arid prairie, or'wind- 
5 mg at tunes among small detached hills or distorted shapes, 
iurnmg sharply to the left, we entered a wide defile of the 
mountams, down the bottom of which a brook came wind- 
ing hned with tall grass and dense copses, amid which were 
hidden many beaver dams and lodges. We passed alono- 

lo between two hnes of high precipices and rocks, piled iS 
utter disorder one upon another, and with scarcely a tree 
a bush, or a clump of grass to veil their nakedness. The 
restless Indian boys were wandering along their edges and 
clambering up and down their rugged sides, and sometimes 

IS a group of them would stand on the verge of a cliff and look 
down on the array as it passed in review beneath them. As 
we advanced, the passage grew more narrow; then it sud- 
denly expanded into a round grassy meadow, completely 
encompassed by mountains; and here the families stopped 

20 as they came up in turn, and the came rose like magic 

The lodges were hardly erected when, with their usual 
precipitation, the Indians set about accomplishing the 
object that had brought them there; that is, the obtaining 
poles for supporting their new lodges. Half the popula- 

25 tion, men, women, and boys, mounted their horses and 
set out for the interior of the mountains. As they rode at 
full gallop over the shingly rocks and into the dark open- 
ing of the defile beyond, I thought I had never read or 
dreamed of a more strange or picturesque cavalcade. We 

30 passed between precipices more than a thousand feet high 
sharp and splintering at the tops, their sides beetling° over 
the defile or descending in abrupt dechvities, bristhng 
216 



THE BLACK HILLS 217 

with black fir trees. On our left they rose close to us like 
a wall, but on the right a winding brook with a narrow 
strip of marshy soil intervened. The stream was clogged 
with old beaver dams, and spread frequently into wide 
pools. There were thick Dushes and many dead and 5 
blasted trees along its course, though frequently nothing 
remained but stumps cut close to the ground by the beaver, 
and marked with the sharp chisel-like teeth of those in- 
defatigable laborers. Sometimes we were diving among 
crees, and then emerging upon open spots, over which, lo 
Indian-like, all galloped at full speed. As Pauline bounded 
over the rocks I felt her saddle-girth slipping, and alighted 
to draw it tighter; when the whole array swept past me 
in a moment, the women with their gaudy ornaments 
tinkling as they rode, the men whooping, and laughing, 15 
and lashing forward their horses. Two black-tailed deer 
bounded away among the rocks; Raymond shot at them 
from horseback; the sharp report of his rifle was answered 
by another equally sharp from the opposing cliffs, and 
then the echoes, leaping in rapid succession from side to 20 
side, died away rattling far amid the mountains. 

After having ridden in this manner for six or eight miles, 
the appearance of the scene began to change, and all the 
declivities around us were covered with forests of tall, 
slender pine trees. The Indians began to fall off to the 25 
right and left, and dispersed with their hatchets and knives 
among these woods, to cut the poles which they had come 
to seek. Soon I was left almost alone; but in the deep 
stillness of those lonely mountains, the stroke of hatchets 
and the sound of voices might be heard from far and near. 30 

Reynal, who imitated the Indians in their habits as well 
as the worst features of their character, had killed buffalo 
enough to make a lodge for himself and his squaw, and now 
he was eager to get the poles necessary to complete it. He 
asked me to let Raymond go with him and assist in the 35 
work. I assented,^ and the two men immediately entered 
the thickest part of the wood. Having left my horse in 
Raymond's keeping, I began to climb the mountain. I was 
weak and weary and made slow progress, often pausing to 
rest, but after an hour had elapsed, I gained a height, 40 
whence the little valley out of which I had climbed seemed 



218 THE OREGON TRAIL 

like a deep, dark gulf, though the inaccessible peak of the 
mountain was still towering to a much greater distance 
above. Objects familiar from childhood surrounded me; 
crags and rocks, a black and sullen brook that gurgled 
5 with a hollow voice deep among the crevices, a wood of 
mossy distorted trees and prostrate trunks flung down by 
age and storms, scattered among the rocks, or damming 
the foaming waters of the brook. The objects were the 
same, yet they were thrown into a wilder and more startling 

lo scene, for the black crags and the savage trees assumed 
a grim and threatening aspect, and close across the valley 
the opposing mountain confronted me, rising from the gulf 
for thousands of feet, with its bare pinnacles and its ragged 
covering of pines. Yet the scene was not without its 

15 milder features. As I ascended, I found frequent little 
grassy terraces, and there was one of these close at hand, 
across which the brook was stealing, beneath the shade of 
scattered trees that seemed artificially planted. Here I 
made a welcome discovery, no other than a bed of straw- 

20 berries, with their white flowers and their red fruit, close 
nestled among the grass by the side of the brook, and I sat 
down by them, hailing them as old acquaintances; for 
among those lonely and perilous mountains they awakened 
delicious associations of the gardens and peaceful homes of 

25 far-distant New England. 

Yet wild as they were, these mountains were thickly 
peopled. As I climbed farther, I found the broad dusty 
paths made by the elk, as they filed across the mountain- 
side. The grass on all the terraces was trampled down 

30 by deer ; there were numerous tracks of wolves, and in 
some of the rougher and more precipitous parts of the 
ascent, I found foot-prints different from any that I had 
ever seen, and which I took to be those of the Rocky 
mountain sheep. I sat down upon a rock; there was a 

35 perfect stillness. No wind was stirring, and not even an 
insect could be heard. I recollected the danger of be- 
coming lost in such a place, and therefore I fixed my eye 
upon one of the tallest pinnacles of the opposite mountain. 
It rose sheer upright from the woods below, and by an 

40 extraordinary freak of nature sustained aloft on its very 
summit a large loose rock. Such a landmark could never 






THE BLACK HILLS 219 

be mistaken, and feeling once more secure, I began again 
to move forward. A white wolf jumped up from among 
some bushes, and leaped clumsily away; but he stopped 
for a moment, and turned back his keen eye and his grim 
bristling muzzle. I longed to take his scalp and carry it 5 
back with me, as an appropriate trophy of the Black hills, 
but before I could fire, he was gone among the rocks. 
Soon I heard a rustling sound, with a cracking of twigs at 
a little distance, and saw moving above the tall bushes 
the branching antlers of an elk. I was in the midst of a 10 
hunter's paradise. 

Such are the Black hills, as I found them in July; but 
they wear a different garb when winter sets in, when the 
broad boughs of the fir tree are bent to the ground by the 
load of snow, and the dark mountains are whitened with it. 15 
At that season the mountain-trappers, returned from their 
autumn expeditions, often build their rude cabins in the 
midst of these solitudes, and live in abundance and luxury 
on the game that harbors there. I have heard them relate, 
how with their tawny mistresses, and perhaps a few young 20 
Indian companions, they have spent months in total seclu- 
sion. They would dig pitfalls, and set traps for the white 
wolves, the sables, and the martens, and though through 
the whole night the awful chorus of the wolves would re- 
sound from the frozen mountains around them, yet within 25 
their massive walls of logs they would lie in careless ease 
and comfort before the blazing fire, and in the morning 
shoot the elk and the deer from their very door. 



CHAPTER XVIII 

A MOUNTAIN HUNT 

The camp was full of the newly-cut lodge-poles; some, 
already prepared, were stacked together, white and ghsten- 
ing, to dry and harden in the sun ; others were lying on the 
ground, and the squaws, the boys, and even some of the 
5 warriors were busily at work peeling off the bark and paring 
them with their knives to the proper dimensions. Most of 
the hides obtained at the last camp were dressed and scraped 
thin enough for use, and many of the squaws v/ere engaged 
in fitting them together and sewing them with sinews, to 

lo form the coverings for the lodges. Men were wandering 
among the bushes that lined the brook along the margin of 
the camp, cutting sticks of red willow, or shongsasha, the 
bark of which, mixed with tobacco, they use for smoking. 
Reynal's squaw was hard at work with her awl and buffalo 

15 sinews upon her lodge, while her proprietor, having just 
finished an enormous breakfast of meat, was smoking a 
social pipe along with Raymond and myself. He proposed 
at length that we should go out on a hunt. ''Go to The 
Big Crow's lodge," said he, "and get your rifle. I'll bet the 

20 gray Wyandot pony against your mare that we start an elk 
or a black-tailed deer, or likely as not, a bighorn, before 
we are two miles out of camp. I'll take my squaw's old 
yellow horse; you can't whip her more than four miles an 
hour, but she is as good for the mountains as a mule." 

25 I mounted the black mule which Raymond usually 
rode. She was a very fine and powerful animal, gentle 
and manageable enough by nature; but of late her temper 
had been soured by misfortune. About a week before I 
had chanced to offend some one of the Indians, who out of 

30 revenge went secretly into the meadow and gave her a severe 
stab in the haunch with his knife. The wound, though 
partially healed, still galled her extremely, and made her 

220 



A MOUNTAIN HUNT 221 

even more perverse and obstinate than the rest of her 
species. 

The morning was a glorious one, and I was in better 
health than I had been at any time for the last two months. 
Though a strong frame and well compacted sinews had 5 
borne me through hitherto, it was long since I had been 
in a condition to feel the exhilaration of the fresh moun- 
tain wind and the gay sunshine that brightened the crags 
and trees. We left the little valley and ascended a rocky 
hollow in the mountain. Very soon we were out of sight lo 
of the camp, and of every living thing, man, beast, bird, 
or insect. I had never before, except on foot, passed 
over such execrable ground, and I desire never to repeat 
the experiment. The black mule grew indignant, and 
even the redoubtable yellow horse stumbled every moment, 15 
and kept groaning to himself as he cut his feet and legs 
among the sharp rocks. 

It was a scene of silence and desolation. Little was 
visible except beetling crags and the bare shingly sides of 
the mountains, relieved by scarcely a trace of vegetation. 20 
At length, however, we came upon a forest tract, and had 
no SQoner done so than we heartily wished ourselves back 
among the rocks again; for we were on a steep descent, 
among trees so thick that we could see scarcely a rod in any 
direction. 25 

If one is anxious to place himself in a situation where 
the hazardous and the ludicrous are combined in about 
equal proportions, let him get upon a vicious mule, with 
a snaffle bit, and try to drive her through the woods down 
a slope of 45°. Let him have on a long rifle, a buckskin 30 
frock with long fringes, and a head of long hair. These 
latter appendages will be caught every moment and twitched 
away in small portions by the twigs, which will also whip 
him smartly across the face, while the large branches above 
thump him on the head. His mule, if she be a true one, will 35 
alternately stop short and dive violently forward, and his 
positions upon her back will be somewhat diversified and 
extraordinary. At one time he will clasp her affectionately, 
to avoid the blow of a bough overhead ; at another, he will 
throw himself back and fling his knee forward against the 40 
side of her neck, to keep it from being crushed between the 



222 THE OREGON TRAIL 

rough bark of a tree and the equally unjnelding ribs of 
the animal herself. Reynal was cursing incessantly during 
the whole way down. Neither of us had the remotest idea 
where we were going ; and though I have seen rough riding, 
5 I shall always retain an evil recollection of that five min- 
utes' scramble. 

At last we left our troubles behind us, emerging into 
the channel of a brook that circled along the foot of the 
descent; and here, turning joyfully to the left, we rode 

lo in luxury and ease over the white pebbles and the rippling 
water, shaded from the glaring sun by an overarching 
green transparency. These halcyon moments were of 
short duration. The friendly brook, turning sharply to 
one side, went brawling and foaming down the rocky 

15 hill into an abyss, which, as far as we could discern, had 
no bottom; so once more we betook ourselves to the de- 
tested woods. When next we came forth from their danc- 
ing shadow and sunlight, we found ourselves standing in 
the broad glare of day, on a high jutting point of the moun- 

20 tain. Before us stretched a long, wide, desert valley, wind- 
ing away far amid the mountains. No civilized eye but 
mine had ever looked upon that virgin waste. Reynal was 
gazing intently ; he began to speak at last : 

" Many a time, when I was with the Indians, I have 

25 been hunting for gold all through the Black hills. There's 
plenty of it here; you may be certain of that. I have 
dreamed about it fifty times, and I never dreamed yet but 
what it came out true. Look over yonder at those black 
rocks piled up against that other big rock. Don't it look 

30 as if there might be something there ? It won't do for 
a white man to be rummaging too much about these moun- 
tains; the Indians say they are full of bad spirits; and I 
believe m3^self that it's no good luck to be hunting about 
here after gold. Well, for all that, I would like to have one 

35 of these fellows up here, from down below, to go about with 
his witch-hazel rod, and I'll guarantee that it v;ould not be 
long before he would light on a gold mine. Never mind; 
we'll let the gold alone for to-day. Look at those trees 
down below us in the hollow; we'll go down there, and I 

40 reckon we'll get a black-tailed deer." 

But Reynal's predictions were not verified. We passed 



A MOUNTAIN HUNT 223 

mountain after mountain, and valley after valley; we ex- 
plored deep ravines; yet still to my companion's vexa- 
tion and evident surprise, no game could be found. So, 
in the absence of better, we resolved to go out on the 
plains and look for an antelope. With this view we began 5 
to pass down a narrow valley, the bottom of which was 
covered with the stiff wild-sage bushes and marked with 
deep paths, made by the buffalo, who, for some inexplicable 
reason, are accustomed to penetrate, in their long grave 
processions, deep among the gorges of these sterile moun- lo 
tains. 

Reynal's eye was ranging incessantly among the rocks 
and along the edges of the black precipices, in hopes of 
discovering the mountain sheep peering down upon us in 
fancied security from that giddy elevation. Nothing was iS 
visible for some time. At length we both detected some- 
thing in motion near the foot of one of the mountains, and 
in a moment afterward a black-tailed deer, with his spread- 
ing antlers, stood gazing at us from the top of a rock, and 
then, slowly turning away, disappeared behind it. In an 20 
instant Reynal was out of his saddle, and running toward 
the spot. I, being too weak to follow, sat holding his horse 
and waiting the result. I lost sight of him, then heard the 
report of his rifle deadened among the rocks, and finally 
saw him reappear, with a surly look that plainly betrayed 25 
his ill success. Again we moved forward down the long 
valley, when soon after we came full upon what seemed a 
wide and very shallow ditch, incrusted at the bottom with 
white clay, dried and cracked in the sun. Under this fair 
outside, Reynal's eye detected the signs of lurking mischief. 30 
He called me to stop, and then, alighting,*picked up a stone 
and threw it into the ditch. To my utter amazement it fell 
with a dull splash, breaking at once through the thin crust, 
and spattering round the hole a yellowish creamy fluid, into 
which it sank and disappeared. A stick, five or six feet long, 35 
lay on the ground, and with this we sounded the insidious 
abyss close to its edge. It was just possible to touch the 
bottom. Places like this are numerous among the Rocky 
mountains. The buffalft, in his blind and heedless walk, 
often plunges into them unawares. Down he sinks; one 40 
snort of terror, one convulsive struggle, and the slime 



224 THE OREGON TRAIL 

calmly flows above his shaggy head, the languid undula- 
tions of its sleek and placid surface alone betraying how 
the powerful monster writhes in his death-throes below. 
We found after some trouble a point where we could 
5 pass the abyss, and now the valley began to open upon 
the plains which spread to the horizon before us. On one 
of their distant swells we discerned three or four black 
specks, which Reynal pronounced to be buffalo. 

"Come," said he, ''we must get one of them. My squaw 

lo wants more sinews to finish her lodge with, and I want 
some glue myself." 

He immediately put the yellow horse to such a gallop as 
he was capable of executing, while I set spurs to the mule, 
who soon far outran her plebeian rival. When we had 

15 galloped a mile or more, a large rabbit, by ill luck, sprang 
up just under the feet of the mule, who bounded violently 
aside in full career. Weakened as I was, I was flung for- 
cibly to the ground, and my rifle, falling close to my head, 
went off with the shock. Its sharp, spiteful report rang for 

20 some moments in my ear. Being slightly stunned, I lay 
for an instant motionless, and Reynal, supposing me to be 
shot, rode up and began to curse the mule. Soon recover- 
ing myself, I rose, picked up the rifle and anxiously exam- 
ined it. It was badly injured. The stock was cracked, 

25 and the main screw broken, so that the lock had to be tied 
in its place with a string; yet happily it was not rendered 
totally unserviceable. I wiped it out, reloaded it, and hand- 
ing it to Reynal, who meanwhile had caught the mule and 
led her up to me, I mounted again. No sooner had I done 

30 so, than the brute began to rear and plunge with extreme 
violence; but being now well prepared for her, and free 
from incumbrance, I soon reduced her to submission. 
Then taking the rifle again from Reynal, we galloped for- 
ward as before. 

35 We were now free of the mountain and riding far out 
on the broad prairie. The buffalo were still some two 
miles in advance of us. When we came near them, we 
stopped where a gentle swell of the plain concealed us 
from their view, and while I held his horse Reynal ran 

40 forward with his rifle, till I lost sight of him beyond the ris- 
ing ground. A few minutes elapsed; I heard the report of 



I 



A MOUNTAIN HUNT 225 

his piece, and saw the buffalo running away at full speed 
on the right, and immediately after, the hunter himself, un- 
successful as before, came up and mounted his horse in 
excessive ill-humor. He cursed the Black hills and the 
buffalo, swore that he was a good hunter, which indeed 5 
was true, and that he had never been out before among 
those mountains without killing two or three deer at least. 
We now turned toward the distant encampment. As 
we rode along, antelope in considerable numbers were 
flying lightly in all directions over the plain, but not one lo 
of them would stand and be shot at. When we reached 
the foot of the mountain ridge that lay between us and 
the village, we were too impatient to take the smooth and 
circuitous route; so turning short to the left, we drove our 
wearied animals directly upward among the rocks. Still 15 
more antelope were leaping about among these flinty 
hillsides. Each of us shot at one, though from a great 
distance, and each missed his mark. At length we reached 
the summit of the last ridge. Looking down, we saw the 
bustling camp in the valley at our feet, and ingloriously 20 
descended to it. As we rode among the lodges, the Indians 
looked in vain for the fresh meat that should have hung 
behirid our saddles, and the squaws uttered various sup- 
pressed ejaculations, to the great indignation of Reynal. 
Our mortification was increased when we rode up to his 25 
lodge. Here we saw his young Indian relative, The Hail- 
Storm, his light graceful figure reclining on the ground in 
an easy attitude, while with his friend The Rabbit, who 
sat by his side, he was making an abundant meal from a 
wooden bowl of wasna, which the squaw had placed be- 30 
tween them. Near him lay the fresh skin of a female elk, 
which he had just killed among the mountains, only a mile 
or two from the camp. No doubt the boy's heart was elated 
with triumph, but he betrayed no sign of it. He even 
seemed totally unconscious of our approach, and his hand- 35 
some face had all the tranquillity of Indian self-control; 
a self-control which prevents the exhibition of emotion, 
without restraining the emotion itself. It was about two 
months since I had known The Hail-Storm, and within 
that time his character had remarkably developed. When 40 
I first saw him, he was just emerging from the habits and 
Q 



226 THE OREGON TRAIL 

feelings of the boy into the ambition of the hunter and 
warrior. He had lately killed his first deer, and this had 
excited his aspirations after distinction. Since that time 
he had been continually in search of game, and no young 
5 hunter in the village had been so active or so fortunate 
as he. It will perhaps be remembered how fearlessly he 
attacked the buffalo bull, as we were moving toward our 
camp at the Medicine-Bow mountain. All this success 
had produced a marked change in his character. As I first 

lo remembered him he always shunned the society of the young 
squaws, and was extremely bashful and sheepish in their 
presence; but now, in the confidence of his own reputation, 
he began to assume the airs and the arts of a man of gal- 
lantry. He wore his red blanket dashingly over his left 

15 shoulder, painted his cheeks every day with vermilion, 
and hung pendants of shells in his ears. If I observed 
aright, he met with very good success in his new pursuits; 
still The Hail-Storm had much to accomplish before he 
attained the full standing of a warrior. Gallantly as he 

20 began to bear himself among the women and girls, he still 
was timid and abashed in the presence of the chiefs and old 
men ; for he had never yet killed a man, or stricken the dead 
body of an enemy in battle. I have no doubt that the 
handsome smooth-faced boy burned with a keen desire 

25 to flesh his maiden scalping-knife, and I would not have 
encamped alone with him without watching his movements 
with a distrustful eye. 

His elder brother, The Horse, was of a different charac- 
ter. He was nothing but a lazy dandy. He knew very 

30 well how to hunt, but preferred to live by the hunting of 
others. He had no appetite for distinction, and The Hail- 
Storm, though a few years younger than he, already sur- 
passed him in reputation. He had a dark and ugly face, 
and he passed a great part of his time in adorning it with 

35 vermilion, and contemplating it by means of a little pocket 
looking-glass which I gave him. As for the rest of the 
day, he divided it between eating and sleeping, and sitting 
in the sun on the outside of a lodge. Here he would re- 
main for hour after hour, arrayed in all his finery, with an 

40 old dragoon's sword in his hand, and evidently flattering 
himself that he was the center of attraction to the eyes of 



A MOUNTAIN HUNT 227 

the surrounding squaws. Yet he sat looking straight for- 
ward with a face of the utmost gravity, as if wrapped in 
profound meditation, and it was only by the occasional 
sidelong glances which he shot at his supposed admirers 
that one could detect the true course of his thoughts. 5 

Both he and his brother may represent a class in the 
Indian community : neither should The Hail-Storm's friend, 
The Rabbit, be passed by without notice. The Hail-Storm 
and he were inseparable : they ate, slept, and hunted to- 
gether, and shared with one another almost all that they 10 
possessed. If there be anything that deserves to be called 
romantic in the Indian character, it is to be sought for in 
friendships ^uch as this, which are quite common among 
many of the prairie tribes. 

Slowly, hour after hour, that weary afternoon dragged 15 
away. I lay in Reynal's lodge, overcome by the listless 
torpor that pervaded the whole encampment. The day's 
work was finished, or if it were not, the inhabitants had 
resolved not to finish it at all, and all were dozing quietly 
within the shelter of the lodges. A profound lethargy, the 20 
very spirit of indolence, seemed to have sunk upon the 
village. Now and then I could hear the low laughter of 
some girl from within a neighboring lodge, or the small 
shrill voices of a few restless children, who alone were 
moving in the deserted area. The spirit of the place in- 25 
fected me; I could not even think consecutively; I was 
fit only for musing and reverie, when at last, hke the rest, 
I fell asleep. 

When evening came and the fires were lighted round 
the lodges, a select family circle convened in the neigh- 30 
borhood of Reynal's domicile. It was composed entirely 
of his squaw's relatives, a mean and ignoble clan, among 
whom none but The Hail-Storm held forth any promise 
of future distinction. Even his prospects were rendered 
not a little dubious by the character of the family, less 35 
however from any principle of aristocratic distinction than 
from the want of powerful supporters to assist him in his 
undertakings, and help to avenge his quarrels. Raymond 
and I sat down along with them. There were eight or 
ten men gathered around the fire, together with about as 40 
many women, old and young, some of whom were toler- 



228 THE OREGON TRAIL 



ably good-looking. As the pipe passed round among the 
men, a lively conversation went forward, more merry 
than delicate, and at length two or three of the elder 
women (for the girls were somewhat diffident and bash- 
5 ful) began to as.-ail Raymond with various pungent wit- 
ticisms. Some of the men took part, and an old squaw 
concluded by bestowing on him a ludicrous nickname, at 
which a general laugh followed at his expense. Ray- 
mond grinned and giggled, and made several futile at- 

ro tempts at repartee. Knowing the impolicy and even dan- 
ger of suffering myself to be placed in a ludicrous light 
among the Indians, I maintained a rigid inflexible coun- 
tenance, and wholly escaped their sallies. 

In the morning I found, to my great disgust, that the 

15 camp was to retain its position for another day. I dreaded 
its languor and monotony, and to escape it, I set out to 
explore the surrounding mountains. I was accompanied 
by a faithful friend, my rifle, the only friend indeed on 
whose prompt assistance in time of trouble I could im- 

20 plicitly rely. Most of the Indians in the village, it is true, 
professed good-will toward the whites, but the experience 
of others and my own observation had taught me the 
extreme folly of confidence, and the utter impossibility 
of foreseeing to what sudden acts the strange unbridled 

25 impulses of an Indian may urge him. When among this 
people danger is never so near as when you are unpre- 
pared for it, never so remote as when you are armed and 
on the alert to meet it any moment. Nothing offers so 
strong a temptation to their ferocious instincts as the ap- 

30 pearance of timidity, weakness, or insecurity. 

Many deep and gloomy gorges, choked with trees and 
bushes, opened from the sides of the hills, which were 
shaggy with forests wherever the rocks permitted vegeta- 
tion to spring. A great number of Indians were stalking 

35 along the edges of the woods, and boys were whooping 
and laughing on the mountain-sides, practicing eye and 
hand, and indulging their destructive propensities by fol- 
lowing birds and small animals and killing them with 
their little bows and arrows. There was one glen, stretch- 

40 ing up between steep cliffs far into the bosom of the moun- 
tain. I began to ascend along its bottom, pushing my 



A MOUNTAIN HUNT 229 

way onward among the rocks, trees, and bushes that ob- 
structed it. A slender thread of water trickled along 
its center, which since issuing from the heart of its native 
rock could scarcely have been warmed or gladdened by 
a ray of sunshine. After adyancing for some time, I con- 5 
ceived myself to be entirely alone ; but coming to a part 
of the glen in a great measure free of trees and under- 
growth, I saw at some distance the black head and red 
shoulders of an Indian among the bushes above. The 
reader need not prepare himself for a startling adventure, lo 
for I have none to relate. The head and shoulders be- 
longed to Mene-Seela, my best friend in the village. As 
I had approached noiselessly with my moccasined ^eet, 
the old man was quite unconscious of my presence; and 
turning to a point where I could gain an unobstructed 15 
view of him, I saw him seated alone, immovable as a statue, 
among the rocks and trees. His face was turned upward, 
and his eyes seemed riveted on a pine tree springing from 
a cleft in the precipice above. The crest of the pine was 
swaying to and fro in the wind, and its long limbs waved 20 
slowly up and down, as if the tree had life. Looking for 
a while at the old man, I was satisfied that he was engaged 
in an' act of worship or prayer, or communion of some kind 
with a supernatural being. I Icnged to penetrate his 
thoughts, but I could do nothing more than conjecture 25 
and speculate. I knew that though the intellect of an 
Indian can embrace the idea of an all-wise, all-powerful 
Spirit, the supreme Ruler of the universe, yet his mind 
will not always ascend into communion with a teing that 
seems to him so vast, remote, and incomprehensible; and -o. 
when danger threatens, when his hopes are broken, when 
the black wing of sorrow overshadows him, he is prone to 
turn for relief to some inferior agency, less removed from 
the ordinary scope of his faculties. He has a guardian 
spirit, on whom he relies for succor and guidance. To him 35 
all nature is instinct with mystic influence. Among those 
mountains not a wild beast was prowling, a bird singing, 
or aleaf fluttering, that might not tend to direct his destiny 
or give warning of what was in store for him ; and he watches 
the world of nature around him as the astrologer watches 40 
the stars. So closely is he linked with it that his guardian 



230 THE OREGON TRAIL 

spirit, no unsubstantial creation of the fancy, is usually 
embodied in the form of some living thing — a bear, a 
wolf, an eagle, or a serpent; and Mene-Seela, as he gazed 
intently on the old pine tree, might believe it to inshrine 
5 the fancied guide and protector of his life. 

Whatever was passing in the mind of the old man, it 
was no part of sense or of delicacy to disturb him. Silently 
retracing my footsteps, I descended the glen until I came 
to a point where I could climb the steep precipices that 

lo shut it in, and gain the side of the mountain. Looking 
up, I saw a tall peak rising among the woods. Something 
impelled me to climb; I had not felt for many a day such 
strength and elasticity of limb. An hour and a half of slow 
and often intermitted labor brought me to the very summit; 

15 and emerging from the dark shadows of the rocks and pines, 
I stepped forth into the light, and walking along the sunny 
verge of a precipice, seated myself on its extreme point. 
Looking between the mountain peaks to the westward, 
the pale blue prairie was stretching to the farthest horizon 

20 like a serene and tranquil ocean. The surrounding moun- 
tains were in themselves sufficiently striking and impres- 
sive, but this contrast gave redoubled effect to their stern 
features. 



CHAPTER XIX 

PASSAGE OF THE MOUNTAINS 

When I took leave of Shaw at LaBonte's camp, I prom- 
ised that I would meet him at Fort Laramie on the first 
of August. That day, according to my reckoning, was now 
close at hand. It was impossible, at best, to fulfill my 
engagement exactly, and my meeting with him must have 5 
been postponed until many days after the appointed time, 
had not the plans of the Indians very well coincided with my 
own. They too, intended to pass the mountains and move 
toward the fort. To do so at this point was impossible, 
because there was no opening; and in order to find a pas- lo 
sage we were obliged to go twelve or fourteen miles south- 
ward. Late in the afternoon the camp got in motion, de- 
filing back through the mountains along the same narrow 
passage by which they had entered. I rode in company 
with -three or four young Indians at the rear, and the moving 15 
swarm stretched before me, in the ruddy hght of sunset, 
or in the deep shadow of the mountains far beyond my 
sight. It was an ill-omened spot they chose to encamp 
upon. When they were there just a year before, a war party 
of ten men, led by The Whirlwind's son, had gone out 20 
against the enemy, and not one had ever returned. This 
was the immediate cause of this season's warlike prepara- 
tions. I was not a little astonished when I came to the camp, 
at the confusion of horrible sounds with which it was filled ; 
howls, shrieks, and wailings were heard from all the women 25 
present, many of whom, not content with this exhibition 
of grief for the loss of their friends and relatives, were 
gashing their legs deeply with knives. A warrior in the 
village, who had lost a brother in the expedition, chose 
another mode of displaying his sorrow. The Indians, 30 
who, though often rapacious, are utterly devoid of avarice, 
are accustomed in times of mourning, or on other solemn 
occasions, to give away the whole of their possessions, 

231 



232 THE OREGON TRAIL 

and reduce themselves to nakedness and want. The war- 
rior in question led his two best horses into the center of 
the village, and gave them away to his friends; upon which 
songs and acclamations in praise of his generosity mingled 
5 with the cries of the women. 

On the next morning we entered once more among the 
mountains. There was nothing in their appearance either 
grand or picturesque, though they were desolate to the 
last degree, being mere piles of black and broken rocks, 

lo without trees or vegetation of any kind. As we passed 
among them along a wide valley, I noticed Raymond 
riding by the side of a young squaw, to whom he was ad- 
dressing various insinuating compliments. All the old 
squaws in the neighborhood watched his proceedings in 

15 great admiration, and the girl herself would turn aside her 
head and laugh. Just then the old mule thought proper 
to display her vicious pranks ; she began to rear and plunge 
most furiously. Raymond was an excellent rider, and at 
first he stuck fast in his seat; but the moment after, I 

20 saw the mule's hind-legs flourishing in the air, and my 
unlucky follower pitching head foremost over her ears. 
There was a burst of screams and laughter from all the 
women, in which his mistress herself took part, and Ray- 
mond was instantly assailed by such a shower of witticisms, 

25 that he was glad to ride forward out of hearing. 

Not long after, as I rode near him, I heard him shouting 
to me. He was pointing toward a detached rocky hill 
that stood in the middle of the valley before us, and from 
behind it a long file of elk came out at full speed and en- 

30 tered an opening in the side of the mountain. They had 
scarcely disappeared when whoops and exclamations came 
from fifty voices around me. The young men leaped from 
their horses, flung down their heavy buffalo robes, and 
ran at full speed toward the foot of the nearest mountain. 

35 Reynal also broke away at a gallop in the same direction, 
"Come on! come on!" he called to us. "Do you see that 
band of bighorn up yonder? If there's one of them, there's 
a hundred ! " 

In fact, near the summit of the mountain, I could see a 

40 large number of small white objects, moving rapidly up- 
ward among the precipices, while others were fihng along 



PASSAGE OF THE MOUNTAINS 233 

its rocky profile. Anxious to see the sport, I galloped 
forward, and entering a passage in the side of the moun- 
tain, ascended among the loose rocks as far as my horse 
could carry me. Here I fastened her to an old pme tree 
that stood alone, scorching in the sun. At that moments 
Raymond called to me from the right that another band of 
sheep was close at hand in that direction. I ran up to the 
top of the opening, which gave me a full view mto the 
rocky gorge beyond; and here I plainly saw some fifty or 
sixty sheep, almost within rifle-shot, clattering upward lo 
among the rocks, and endeavoring, after their usual cus- 
tom to reach the highest point. The naked Indians 
bounded up lightlv in pursuit. In a moment the game 
and hunters disappeared. Nothing could be seen or heard 
but the occasional report of a gun, more and more distant, 15 
reverberating among the rocks. 

I turned to descend, and as I did so I could see the valley 
below alive with Indians passing rapidly through it, on 
horseback and on foot. A little farther on, all were stop- 
ping as they came up; the camp was preparing, and the 20 
lodges rising. I descended to this spot, and soon after 
Reynal and Raymond returned. They bore between them 
a sheep which they had pelted to death with stones from 
the edge of a ravine, along the bottom of which it was at- 
tempting to escape. One by one the hunters came drop- 25 
ping in; yet such is the activity of the Rocky mountain 
sheep that, although sixty or seventy men were out in pur- 
suit, not more than half a dozen animals were killed. Of 
these only one was a full-grown male. He had a pair of 
horns twisted like a ram's, the dimensions of which were 30 
almost beyond behef. I have seen among the Indians 
ladles with long handles, capable of containing more than 
a quart, cut out from such horns. 

There is something peculiarly interesting in the character 
and habits of the mountain sheep, whose chosen retreats 35 
are above the region of vegetation and of storms, and who 
leap among the giddy precipices of their aerial home as 
actively as the antelope skims over the prairies below. 

Through the whole of the next morning we were mov- 
ing forward, among the hills. On the following day the 40 
heights gathered around us, and the passage of the moun- 



234 THE OREGON TRAIL 

tains began in earnest. Before the village left its camp- 
ing ground, I set forward in company with The Eagle- 
Feather, a man of powerful frame, but of bad and sinister 
face. His son, a light-limbed boy, rode with us, and an- 
5 other Indian, named The Panther, was also of the party. 
Leaving the village out of sight behind us, we rode to- 
gether up a rocky defile. After a while, however, The 
Eagle- Feather discovered in the distance some appear- 
ance of game, and set off with his son in pursuit of it, while 

lo I went forward with The Panther, This was a mere nom 
de guerre ;° for, like many Indians, he concealed his real 
name out of some superstitious notion. He was a very 
noble looking fellow. As he suffered his ornamented buf- 
falo robe to fah in folds about his loins, his stately and 

15 graceful figure was fully displayed; and while he sat his 
horse in an easy attitude, the long feathers of the prairie 
cock fluttering from the crown of his head, he seemed the 
very model of a wild prairie-rider. He had not the same 
features with those of other Indians. Unless his hand- 

20 some face greatly belied him, he was free from the jeal- 
ousy, suspicion, and malignant cunning of his people. 
For the most part, a civilized white man can discover but 
very few points of sympathy between his own nature and 
that of an Indian. With every disposition to do justice to 

25 their good qualities, he must be conscious that an impass- 
able gulf lies between him and his red brethren of the 
prairie. Nay, so alien to himself do they appear that, 
having breathed for a few months or a few weeks the air of 
this region, he begins to look upon them as a troublesome 

30 and dangerous species of wild beast, and, if expedient, he 
could shoot them with as little compunction as they them- 
selves would experience after performing the same office 
upon him. Yet, in the countenance of The Panther, I gladly 
read that there were at least some points of sympathy 

35 between him and me. We were excellent friends, and as 
we rode forward together through rocky passages, deep 
dells, and little barren plains, he occupied himself very 
zealously in teaching me the Dahcotah language. After 
a while, we came to a little grassy recess, where some goose- 

40 berry bushes were growing at the foot of a rock : and these 
offered such temptation to my companion, that he gave 



PASSAGE OF THE MOUNTAINS 235 

over his instruction, and stopped so long to gather the 
fruit that before we were in motion again the van of the 
village came in view. An old woman appeared, leading 
down her pack horse among the rocks above. Savage 
after savage followed, and the little dell was soon crowded 5 
with the throng. 

That morning's march was one not easily to be for- 
gotten. It led us through a sublime waste, a wilderness 
of mountains and pine forests, over which the spirit of 
loneliness and silence seemed brooding. Above and be- lo 
low little could be seen but the same dark green foliage. 
It overspread the valleys, and the mountains were clothed 
with it from the black rocks that crowned their summits 
to the impetuous streams that circled round their base. 
Scenery like this, it might seem, could have no very cheer- 15 
ing effect on the mind of a sick man (for to-day my disease 
had again assailed me) in the midst of a horde of savages; 
but if the reader has ever wandered, with a true hunter's 
spirit, among the forests of Maine, or the more pictur- 
esque solitudes of the Adirondack mountains, he will under- 20 
stand how the somber woods and mountains around me 
might have awakened any other feelings than those of 
gloom. In truth they recalled gladdening recollections of 
similar scenes in a distant and far different land. After 
we had been advancing for several hours through pas- 25 
sages always narrow, often obstructed and difficult, I saw 
at a little distance on our right a narrow opening between 
two high T\^ooded precipices. All within seemed darkness 
and mystery. In the mood in which I found myself some- 
thing strongly impelled me to enter. Passing over the 30 
intervening space I guided my horse through the rocky 
portal, and as I did so instinctively drew the covering 
from my rifle, half expecting that some unknown evil lay 
in ambush within those dreary recesses. The place was 
shut in among tall cliffs, and so deeply shadowed by a 35 
host of old pine trees that, though the sun shone bright 
on the side of the mountain, nothing but a dim twilight 
could penetrate within. As far as I could see it had no 
tenants except a few hawks and owls, who, dismayed at 
my intrusion, flapped hoarsely away among the shaggy 40 
branches. I moved forward, determined to explore the 



236 THE OREGON TRAIL 



mystery to the bottom, and soon became involved among 
the pines. The genius of the place exercised a strange 
influence upon my mind. Its faculties were stimulated 
into extraordinary activity, and as I passed along many 
5 half-forgotten incidents, and the images of persons and 
things far distant, rose rapidly before me with surprising 
dictinctness. In that perilous wilderness, eight hundred 
miles removed beyond the faintest vestige of civilization, 
the scenes of another hemisphere, the seat of ancient re- 

lo finement, passed before me more like a succession of vivid 
paintings than any mere dreams of the fancy. I saw the 
church of St. Peter's° illumined on the evening of Easter 
day, the whole majestic pile, from the cross to the foun- 
dation stone, penciled in fire and shedding a radiance, 

15 like the serene light of the moon, on the sea of upturned 
faces below. I saw the peak of Mount Etna° towering 
above its inky mantle of clouds and lightly curling its 
wreaths of milk-white smoke against the soft sky flushed 
with the Sicilian sunset. I saw also the gloomy vaulted 

20 passages and the narrow cells of the Passionist convent^ 
where I once had sojourned for a few days with the fanat- 
ical monks, its pale, stern inmates in their robes of black, 
and the grated window from whence I could look out, a 
forbidden indulgence, upon the melancholy Coliseum° and 

25 the crumbling ruins of the Eternal city.° The mighty 
glaciers of the Splugen° too rose before me, gleaming in the 
sun like polished silver, and tho.-e terrible solitudes, the 
birthplace of the Rhine,° where, bursting from the bowels of 
its native mountains, it lashes and foams down the rocky 

30 abyss into the little valley of Andeer.° These recollections, 
and many more, crowded upon me, until remembering 
that it was hardly wise to remain long in such a place, I 
mounted again and retraced my steps. 

Issuing from between the rocks I saw a few rods before 

35 me the men, women, and children, dogs and horses, still 
fiUng slowly across the little glen. A bare round hill rose 
directly above them. I rode to the top, and from this point 
I could look down on the savage procession as it passed 
just beneath my feet, and far on the left I could see its 

40 thin and broken line, visible only at intervals, stretching 
away for miles among the mountains. On the farthest 



PASSAGE OF THE MOUNTAINS 237 

ridge horsemen were still descending like mere specks in 
the distance. 

I remained on the hill until all had passed, and then, de- 
scending, followed after them. A little farther on I found 
a very small meadow, set deeply among steep mountains; 5 
and here the whole village had encamped. The little 
spot was crowded with the confused and disorderly host. 
Some of the lodges were already completely prepared, 
or the squaws perhaps were busy in drawing the heavy 
coverings of skin over the bare poles. Others were as 10 
yet mere skeletons, while others still — poles, covering, 
and all — lay scattered in complete disorder on the ground 
among buffalo robes, bales of meat, domestic utensils, 
harness, and weapons. Squaws were screaming to one 
another, horses rearmg and plunging, dogs yelping, eager 15 
to be disburdened of their loads, while the fluttering of 
feathers and the gleam of barbaric ornaments added live- 
liness to the scene. The small children ran about amid 
the crowd, while many of the boys were scrambling among 
the overhanging rocks, and standing, with their little bows 20 
in their hands, looking down upon the restless throng. In 
contrast with the general confusion, a circle of old men 
and .warriors sat in the midst, smoking in profound indif- 
ference and tranquillity. The disorder at length subsided. 
The horses were driven away to feed along the adjacent 25 
valley, and the camp assumed an air of listless repose. 
It was scarcely past noon; a vast white canopy of smoke 
from a burning forest to the eastward overhung the place, 
and partially obscured the sun; yet the heat was almost 
insupportable. The lodges stood crowded together with- 30 
out order in the narrow space. Each was a perfect hothouse, 
within which the lazy proprietor lay sleeping. The camp 
was silent as death. Nothing stirred except now and 
then an old woman passing from lodge to lodge. The 
girls and young men sat together in groups under the pine 35 
trees upon the surrounding heights. The dogs lay panting 
on the ground, too lazy even to growl at the white man. At 
the entrance of the meadow there was a cold spring among 
the rocks, completely overshadowed by tall trees and dense 
imdergrowth. In this cool and shady retreat a number of 40 
girls were assembled, sitting together on rocks and fallen 



238 THE OREGON TRAIL 



logs, discussing the latest gossip of the village, or laughing 
and throwing water with their hands at the intruding Mene- 
aska. The minutes seemed lengthened into hours. I lay 
for a long time under a tree, studying the Ogallallah tongue, 
5 with the zealous instructions of my friend The Panther. 
When we were both tired of this I went and lay down by 
the side of a deep, clear pool formed by the water of the 
spring. A shoal of little fishes of about a pin's length 
w^ere playing in it, sporting together, as it seemed, very 

lo amicably ; but on closer observation, I saw that they were 
engaged in a cannibal warfare among themselves. Now 
and then a small one would fall a victim, and immedi- 
ately disappear down the maw of his voracious conqueror. 
Every moment, however, the tyrant of the pool, a mon- 

15 ster about three inches long, with staring goggle eyes, 
would slowly issue forth with quivering fins and tail from 
under the shelving bank. The small fry at this would sus- 
pend their hostilities, and scatter in a panic at the appear- 
ance of overwhelming force. 

20 ''Soft-hearted philanthropists," thought I, "may sigh 
long for their peaceful millennium; for from minnows up 
to men, life is an incessant battle." 

Evening approached at last, the tall mountain-tops 
around w^ere still gray and bright in sunshine, while our 

25 deep glen was completely shadowed. I left the camp and 
ascended a neighboring hill, whose rocky summit com- 
manded a wide view^ over the surrounding wilderness. 
The sun was still glaring through the stiff pines on the 
ridge of the western mountain. In a moment he was 

30 gone, and as the landscape rapidly darkened, I turned 
again toward the village. As I descended, the hill, the 
howling of wolves and the barking of foxes came up out 
of the dim woods from far and near. The camp was glow- 
ing with a multitude of fires, and alive with dusky naked 

35 figures, whose tall shadows flitted among the surrounding 
crags. 

I found a circle of smokers seated in their usual place; 
that is, on the ground before the lodge of a certain war- 
rior, who seemed to be generally known for his social 

40 qualities. I sat down to smoke a parting pipe with my 
savage friends. That day was the first of August, on 



PASSAGE OF THE MOUNTAINS 239 

which I had promised to meet Shaw at Fort Laramie. 
The fort was less than two days' journey distant, and that 
my friend need not suffer anxiety on my account, I re- 
solved to push forward as rapidly as possible to the place 
of meeting. I went to look after The Hail-Storm, and 5 
having found him, I offered him a handful' of hawks'-bells 
and a paper of vermilion, on condition that he would guide 
me in the morning through the mountains within sight of 
Laramie creek. 

The Hail-Storm ejaculated "How!" and accepted the 10 
gift. Nothing more was said on either side ; the matter was 
settled, and I lay down to sleep in Kongra-Tonga's lodge. 

Long before daylight Raymond shook me by the shoulder. 

"Everything is ready," he said. 

I went out. The morning was chill, damp, and dark; 15 
and the whole camp seemed asleep. The Hail-Storm sat 
on horseback before the lodge, and my mare Pauline and 
the mule which Raymond rode were picketed near it. 
We saddled and made our other arrangements for the 
journey, but before these were completed the camp began 20 
to stir, and the lodge-coverings fluttered and rustled as 
the squaws pulled them down in preparation for depar- 
ture. Just as the light began to appear we left the ground, 
passing up through a narrow opening among the rocks 
which led eastward out of the meadow. Gaining the top 25 
of this passage, I turned round and sat looking back upon 
the camp, dimly visible in the gray light of the morning. 
All was alive with the bustle of preparation. I turned 
away, half unwilling to take a final leave of my savage 
associates. We turned to the right, passing among rocks 30 
and pine trees so dark that for a while we could scarcely 
see our way. The country in front was wild and broken, 
half hill, half plain, partly open and partly covered with 
woods of pine and oak. Barriers of lofty mountains en- 
compassed it; the woods were fresh and cool in the early 35 
morning; the peaks of the mountains were wreathed with 
mist, and sluggish vapors were entangled among the forests 
upon their sides. At length the black pinnacle of the 
tallest mountain was tipped with gold by the rising sun. 
About that time The Hail-Storm, who rode in front, gave 40 
a low exclamation. Some large animal leaped up from 



240 THE OREGON TRAIL 

among the bushes, and an elk, as I thought, his horns 
thrown back over his neck, darted past us across the open 
space, and bounded hke a mad thing away among the 
adjoining pines. Raymond was soon out of his saddle, 

5 but before he could fire, the animal was full two hundred 
yards distant.' The ball struck its mark, though much 
too low for mortal effect. The elk, however, wheeled in 
its flight, and ran at full speed among the trees, nearly 
at right angles to his former course. I fired and broke 

lo his shoulder; still he moved on, limping down into the 
neighboring woody hollow, whither the young Indian 
followed and killed him. When we reached the spot we 
discovered him to be no elk, but a black-tailed deer, an 
animal nearly twice the size of the common deer, and quite 

15 unknown to the East. We began to cut him up; the re- 
ports of the rifles had reached the ears of the Indians, and 
before our task was finished several of them came to the 
spot. Leaving the hide of the deer to The Hail-Storm, we 
hung as much of the meat as we wanted behind our sad- 

20 dies, left the rest to the Indians, and resumed our journey. 
Meanwhile the village was on its way, and had gone so 
far that to get in advance of it was impossible. Therefore 
we directed our course so as to strike its line of march 
at the nearest point. In a short time, through the dark 

25 trunks of the pines, we could see the figures of th^ Indians 
as they passed. Once more we were among them. They 
were moving with even more than their usual precipita- 
tion, crowded close together in a narrow pass between 
rocks and old pine trees. We were on the eastern descent 

30 of the mountain, and soon came to a rough and diflEicult 
defile, leading down a very steep declivity. The whole 
swarm poured down together, filling the rocky passage- 
way like some turbulent mountain stream. The mountains 
before us were on fire, and had been so for weeks. The 

35 view in front was obscured by a vast dim sea of smoke 
and vapor, while on either hand the tall cliff's, bearing 
aloft their crest of pines, thrust their heads boldly through 
it, and the sharp pinnacles and broken ridges of the moun- 
tains beyond them were faintly traceable as through 

40 a veil. The scene in itself was most grand and imposing, 
but with the savage multitude, the armed warriors, the 



PASSAGE OF THE MOUNTAINS 241 

naked children, the gayly appareled girls, pouring impet- 
uously down the heights, it would have formed a noble 
subject for a painter, and only the pen of a Scott° could 
have done it justice in description. 

We passed over a burnt tract where the ground was hot 5 
beneath the horses' feet, and between the blazing sides of 
two mountains. Before long we had descended to a softer 
region, where we found a succession of little valleys watered 
by a stream, along the borders of which grew abundance 
of wild gooseberries and currants, and the children and !o 
many of the men straggled from the line of march to gather 
them as we passed along. Descending still farther, the 
view changed rapidly. The burning mountains were be- 
hind us, and through the open valleys in front we could see 
the oceanlike prairie, stretching beyond the sight. After 15 
passing through a line of trees that skirted the brook, the 
Indians filed out upon the plains. I was thirsty and knelt 
down by the little stream to drink. As I mounted again 
I very carelessly left my rifle among the grass, and my 
thoughts being otherwise absorbed, I rode for some distance 20 
before discovering its absence. As the reader may con- 
ceive, I lost no time in turning about and galloping back 
in search of it. Passing the line of Indians, I watched every 
warrior as he rode by me at a canter, and at length dis- 
covered my rifle in the hands of one of them, who, on my 25 
approaching to claim it, immediately gave it up. Having 
no other means of acknowledging the obligation, I took 
off one of my spurs and gave it to him. He was greatly 
delighted, looking upon it as a distinguished mark of favor, 
and immediately held out his foot for me to buckle it on. 30 
As soon as I had done so, he struck it with all his force 
into the side of his horse, who gave a violent leap. The 
Indian laughed and spurred harder than before. At this 
the horse shot away like an arrow, amid the screams and 
laughter of the squaws, and the ejaculations of the men, 35 
who exclaimed : " Washtay ! — Good !" at the potent effect 
of my gift. The Indian had no saddle, and nothing in place 
of a bridle except a leather string tied round the horse's 
jaw. The animal was of course wholly uncontrollable, 
and stretched away at full speed over the prairie, till he 40 
and his rider vanished behind a distant swell. I never saw 



242 THE BEG ON TRAIL 

the man again, but I presume no harm came to him. An 
Indian on horseback has more Hves than a cat. 

The village encamped on a scorching prairie, close to 

the foot of the mountains. The heat was most intense 

5 and penetrating. The coverings of the lodges were raised 

a foot or more from the ground, in order to procure some 

circulation of air; and Reynal thought proper to lay aside 

his trapper's dress of buckskin and assume the very scanty 

costume of an Indian. Thus elegantly attired, he stretched 

lo himself in his lodge on a buffalo robe, alternately cursing 

the heat and puffing at the pipe which he and I passed 

between us. There was present also a select circle of 

Indian friends and relatives. A small boiled puppy was 

served up as a parting feast, to w^hich was added, by way 

15 of dessert, a wooden bowl of gooseberries, from the mountains. 

''Look there," said Reynal, pointing out of the opening 

of his lodge; "do you see that line of buttes about fifteen 

miles off? Well, novv% do you see that farthest one, with 

the white speck on the face of it ? Do you think you ever 

20 saw it before?" 

"It looks to me," said I, "like the hill that we were 
camped under when we were on Laramie creek, six or 
eight weeks ago." 

"You've hit it," answered Re5mal. 
25 "Go, and bring in the animals, Raymond," said I; 
"we'll camp there to-night, and start for the fort in the 
morning." 

The mare and the mule were soon before the lodge. 

We saddled them, and in the meantime a number of In- 

30 dians collected about us. The virtues of Pauline, my 

strong, fleet, and hardy little mare, were well known in 

camp, and several of the visitors were mounted upon good 

horses which they had brought me as presents. I promptly 

declined their offers, since accepting them would have in- 

35 volved the necessity of transferring poor Pauline into their 

barbarous hands. We took leave of Reynal, but not of 

the Indians, who are accustomed to dispense with such 

superfluous ceremonies. Leaving the camp we rode straight 

over the prairie toward the white-faced bluff, whose pale 

40 ridges swelled gently against the horizon, like a cloud. An 

Indian went with us, whose name I forget, though the ugli- 



PASSAGE OF THE MOUNTAINS 243 

ness of his face and the ghastly width of his mouth dwell 
vividly in my recollection. The antelope were numerous, 
but we did not heed them. We rode directly toward our 
destination, over the arid plains and barren hills; until, 
late in the afternoon, half spent with heat, thirst, and 5 
fatigue, we saw a gladdening sight; the long line of trees 
and the deep gulf that mark the course of Laramie creek. 
Passing through the growth of huge dilapidated old cotton- 
wood trees that bordered the creek, we rode across to the 
other side. The rapid and foaming waters were filled with lo 
fish playing and splashing in the shallows. As we gained 
the farther bank, our horses turned eagerly to drink, and 
we, kneeling on the stand, followed their example. We 
had not gone far before the scene began to grow familiar. 

'' We are getting near home, Raymond," said I. 15 

There stood the big tree under which we had encamped 
so long; there were the white cliff's that used to look down 
upon our tent when it stood at the bend of the creek; there 
was the meadow in which our horses had grazed for weeks, 
and a little farther on, the prairie-dog village where I had 20 
beguiled many a languid hour in persecuting the unfortunate 
inhabitants. 

"We are going to catch it now," said Raymond, turn- 
ing his broad, vacant face up towards the sky. 

In truth, the landscape, the cliff's and the meadow, the 25 
stream and the groves, were darkening fast. Black masses 
of cloud were swelling up in the south, and the thunder 
was growling ominously. 

" We will camp there," I said, pointing to a dense grove 
of trees lower down the stream. Raymond and I turned 30 
toward it, but the Indian stopped and called earnestly 
after us. When we demanded what was the matter, he 
said that the ghosts of two warriors were always among 
those trees, and that if we slept there, they would scream 
and throw stones at us all night, and perhaps steal our 35 
horses before morning. Thinking it as well to humor him, 
we left behind us the haunt of these extraordinaiy ghosts, 
and passed on toward Chugwater, riding at full gallop, for 
the iDig drops began to patter down. Soon we came in 
sight of the poplar saplings that grew about the mouth 40 
of the little stream. We leaped to the ground, threw off" 



244 THE OREGON TRAIL 



our saddles, turned our horses loose, and drawing our knives, 
began to slash among the bushes to cut twigs and branches 
for making a shelter against the rain. Bending down the 
taller saplings as they grew, we piled the young shoots upon 
5 them, and thus made a convenient penthouse, but all our 
labor was useless. The storm scarcely touched us. Half 
a mile on our right the rain was pouring down like a cataract, 
and the thunder roared over the prairie like a battery of can- 
non ; while we by good fortune received only a few heavy 

lo drops from the skirt of the passing cloud. The weather 
cleared and the sun set gloriously. Sitting close under our 
leafy canopy, we proceeded to discuss a substantial meal of 
wasna which Weah-Washta3Miad given me. The Indian had 
brought with him his pipe and a bag of sJiongsasha ; so 

15 before lying down to sleep, we sat for some time smoking 
together. Previously, however, our wide-mouthed friend 
had taken the precaution of carefully examining the neigh- 
borhood. He reported that eight men, counting them on 
his fingers, had been encamped there not long before. 

20 Bisonette, Paul Dorion, Antoine Le Rouge, Richardson, 
and four others, whose names he could not tell. All this 
proved strictly correct. B}^ what instinct he had ar- 
rived at such accurate conclusions, I am utterly at a loss 
to divine. 

25 It was still quite dark when I awoke and called Ray- 
mond. The Indian was already gone, having chosen to 
go on before us to the fort. Setting out after him, we 
rode for some time in complete darkness, and when the 
sun at length rose, growing like a fiery ball of copper, we 

30 were ten miles distant from the fort. At length, from 
the broken summit of a tall sandy bluff we could see Fort 
Laramie, miles before us, standing by the side of the 
stream like a little gray speck in the midst of the bound- 
less desolation. I stopped my horse, and sat for a moment 

35 looking down upon it. It seemed to me the very center 
of comfort and civilization. We were not long in ap- 
proaching it, for we rode at speed the greater part of the 
way. Laramie creek still intervened between us and 
the friendly walls. Entering the water at the point where 

40 we had struck upon the bank, we raised our feet to the 
saddle behind us, and thus, kneeling as it were on horse- 



PASSAGE OF THE MOUNTAINS 245 

back, passed dry-shod through the swift current. As we 
rode up the bank, a number of men appeared in the gate- 
way. Three of them came forward to meet us. In a mo- 
ment I distinguished Shaw; Henry Chatillon followed 
with his face of manly simplicity and frankness, and Des- s 
lauriers came last, with a broad grin of welcome. The 
meeting was not on either side one of mere ceremony. 
For my own part, the change was a most agreeable one 
from the society of savages and men little better than 
savages, to that of my gallant and high-minded com- lo 
panion and our noble-hearted guide. My appearance was 
equally gratifying to Shaw, who was beginning to enter- 
tain some very uncomfortable surmises concerning me. 

Bordeaux greeted me very cordially, and shouted to the 
cook. This functionary was a new acciuisition, having 15 
lately come from Fort Pierre with the trading wagons. 
Whatever skill he might have boasted, he had not the 
most promising materials to exercise it upon. He set 
before me, however, a breakfast of biscuit, coffee, and 
salt pork. It seemed like a new phase of existence, to be 20 
seated once more on a bench, with a knife and fork, a 
plate and teacup, and something resembling a table before 
me." The coffee seemed delicious, and the bread was a 
most welcome novelty, since for three weeks I had eaten 
scarcely anything but meat, and that for the most part 25 
without salt. The meal also had the relish of good com- 
pany, for opposite to me sat Shaw in elegant dishabille. ° 
If one is anxious thoroughly to appreciate the value of a 
congenial companion, he has only to spend a few weeks 
by himself in an Ogallallah village. And if he can con- 30 
trive to add to his seclusion a debilitating and somewhat 
critical illness, his perceptions upon this subject will be 
rendered considerably more vivid. 

Shaw had been upward of two weeks at the fort. I 
found him established in his old quarters, a large apart- 7,5 
ment usually occupied by the absent bourgeois. In one 
corner was a soft and luxurious pile of excellent buffalo 
robes, and here I lay down. Shaw brought me three books. 

"Here," said he, "is your Shakspere° and Byron, ° and 
here is the Old Testament, which has as much poetry in 40 
it as the other two put together." 



246 THE OREGON TRAIL 



I chose the worst ° of the three, and for the greater part of 

that day I lay on the buffalo robes, fairly reveling in the 

creations of that resplendent genius which has achieved 

no more signal triumph than that of half beguiling us to 

5 forget the pitiful and unmanly character of its possessor. 



CHAPTER XX 

THE LONELY JOURNEY 

On the day of my arrival at Fort Laramie, Shaw and I 
were lounging on two buffalo robes in the large apart- 
ment hospitably assigned to us; Henry Chatillon also 
was present, busy about the harness and weapons, which 
had been brought into the room, and two or three Indians 5 
were crouching on the floor, eying us with their fixed, un- 
wavering gaze. 

"I have been well off here," said Shaw, "in all respects 
but one; there is no good shongsasha to be had for love 
or money." lo 

I gave him a small leather bag containing some of ex- 
cellent quality, which I had brought from the Black hills. 
"Now, Henry," said he, "hand me Papin's chopping- 
board, or give it to that Indian, and let him cut the mixture; 
they understand it better than any white man." 15 

The Indian, without saying a word, mixed the bark 
and the tobacco in due proportions, filled the pipe and 
lighted it. This done, my companion and I proceeded 
to deliberate on our future course of proceeding; first, 
however, Shaw acquainted me with some incidents which 20 
had occurred at the fort during my absence. 

About a week previous four men had arrived from beyond 
the mountains: Sublette, Reddick, and two others. Just 
before reaching the fort they had met a large party of 
Indians, chiefly young men. All of them belonged to the 25 
village of our old friend Smoke, who, with his whole band 
of adherents, professed the greatest friendship for the 
whites. The travelers therefore approached, and began 
to converse without the least suspicion. Suddenly, how- 
ever, their bridles were violently seized, and they were 30 
ordered to dismount. Instead of complying, they struck 
their horses with full force, and broke away from the Ixn- 

247 



248 THE OREGON TRAIL 

dians. As they galloped off they heard a yell behind them, 
mixed with a burst of derisive laughter, and the reports 
of several guns. None of them were hurt, though Red- 
dick's bridle rein was cut by a bullet within an inch of his 
5 hand. After this taste of Indian hostilitj^ they felt for the 
moment no disposition to encounter farther risks. They 
intended to pursue the route southward along the foot of 
the mountains to Bent's fort; and as our plans coincided 
with theirs, they proposed to join forces. Finding, however, 

lo that I did not return, they grew impatient of inaction, 
forgot their late escape, and set out without us, promising 
to wait our arrival at Bent's fort. From thence we were 
to make the long journey to the settlements in company, 
as the path was not a little dangerous, being infested by 

15 hostile Pawnees and Comanches. 

We expected, on reaching Bent's fort, to find there still 
another reinforcement.- A young Kentuckian of the true 
Kentucky blood, generous, impetuous, and a gentleman 
withal, had come out to the mountains with Russel's party 

20 of California emigrants. One of his chief objects, as he 
gave out, was to kill an Indian; an exploit which he after- 
wards succeeded in achieving, much to the jeopardy of 
ourselves and others who had to pass through the country 
of the dead Pawnee's enraged relatives. Having become 

25 disgusted with his emigrant associates he left tliem, and 
had some time before set out with a party of companions 
for the head of the Arkansas. He sent us previously a 
letter, intimating that he would wait until we arrived at 
Bent's fort, and accompany us thence to the settlements. 

30 When, however, he came to the fort, he found there a party 
of forty men about to make the homeward journey. He 
v.'isely preferred to avail himself of so strong an escort. Mr. 
Sublette and his companions also set out, in order to over- 
take this company; so that on reaching Bent's fort, some 

35 six weeks after, we found ourselves deserted by our allies 
and thrown once more upon our own resources. 

But I am anticipating. When, before leaving the set- 
tlement we had made inquiries concerning this part of 
the country of General Kearny, Mr. Mackenzie, ° Captain 

4oWyeth,°and others well acquainted with it. they had all 
advised us by no means to attempt this southward journey 



THE LONELY JOURNEY 249 



with fewer than fifteen or twenty men. The danger con- 
sists in the chance of encountering Indian war parties. 
Sometimes throughout the whole length of the journey (a 
distance of 350 miles) one does not meet a single human 
being; frequently, however, the route is beset by Arapa- s 
hoes and other unfriendly tribes ; in which case the scalp of 
the adventurer is in imminent peril. As to the escort of 
fifteen or twenty men, such a force of whites could at that 
time scarcely be collected by the whole country; and had 
the case been otherwise, the expense of securing them, to- ic 
gether with the necessary number of horses, would have 
been extremely heavy. We had resolved, however, upon 
pursuing this southward course. There were, indeed, two 
other routes from Fort Laramie; but both of these were 
less interesting, and neither was free from danger. Being 15 
unable therefore to procure the fifteen or twenty men recom- 
mended, we determined to set out with those we had 
already in our employ; Henry Chatillon, Deslauriers, and 
Raymond. The men themselves made no objection, nor 
would they have made any had the journey been more 20 
dangerous ; for Henry was without fear, and the other two 
without thought. 

Shaw and I were much better fitted for this mode of 
traveling than we had been on betaking ourselves to the 
prairies for the first time a few months before. The daily 25 
routine had ceased to be a novelty. All the details of the 
journey and the camp had become familiar to us. We had 
seen life under a new aspect ; the human biped° had been 
reduced to his primitive condition. We had lived without 
law to protect, a roof to shelter, or garment of cloth to 30 
cover us. One of us at least had been without bread, and 
without salt to season his food. Our idea of what is in- 
dispensable to human existence and enjoyment had been 
wonderfully curtailed, and a horse, a rifle, and a knife 
seemed to make up the whole of life's necessaries. For 35 
these once obtained, together with the skill to use them, all 
else that is essential would follow in their train, and a host 
of luxuries besides. One other lesson our short prairie ex- 
perience had taught us; that of profound contentment in 
the present, and utter contempt for what the future might 40 
bring forth. 



250 THE OREGON TRAIL 



These principles established, we prepared to leave Fort 
Laramie. On the fourth of August, early in the afternoon, 
we bade a final adieu to its hospitable gateway. Again 
Shaw and I were riding side by side on the prairie. For 

•S the first fifty miles we had companions with us ; Troch6, 
a little trapper, and Rouville, a nondescript in the employ 
of the fur company, who were going to join the trader Biso- 
nette at his encampment near the head of Horse creek. 
We rode only six or eight miles that afternoon before we 

lo came to a little brook traversing the barren prairie. All 
along its course grew copses of young wild-cherry trees, 
loaded with ripe fruit, and almost concealing the gliding 
thread of water with their dense growth, while on each side 
rose swells of rich green grass. Here we encamped; and 

15 being much too indolent to pitch our tent, we flung our 
saddles on the ground, spread a pair of buffalo robes, 
lay down upon them, and began to smoke. Meanwhile, 
Deslauriers busied himself with his hissing frying pan, and 
Raymond stood guard over the band of grazing horses. 

20 Deslauriers had an active assistant in Rouville, who pro- 
fessed great skill in the culinary art, and seizing upon a fork, 
began to lend his zealous aid in making ready supper. 
Indeed, according to his own belief, Rouville was a man 
of universal knowledge, and he lost no opportunity to dis- 

25 play his manifold accomplishments. He had been a circus- 
rider at St. Louis, and once he rode round Fort Laramie 
on his head, to the utter bewilderment of all the Indians. 
He was also noted as the wit of the fort; and as he had 
considerable humor and abundant vivacity, he contributed 

30 more that night to the liveliness of the camp than all the 
rest of the party put together. At one instant he would be 
kneeling by Deslauriers, instructing him in the true method 
of frying antelope steaks, then he would come and seat him- 
self at our side, dilating upon the orthodox fashion of braid- 

35 ing up a horse's tail, telling apocryphal ° stories how he had 
killed a bufi'alo bull with aknife, having first cut off his tail 
when at full speed, or relating whimsical anecdotes of the 
hourgeois Papin. At last he snatched up a volume of 
Shakspere that was lying on the grass, and halted and 

40 stumbled through a line or two to prove that he could read. 
He went gamboling about the camp, chattering like some 



THE LONELY JOURNEY 251 



frolicksome ape; and whatever he was doing at one mo- 
ment, the presumption was a sure one that he would not be 
doing it the next. His companion Troche sat silently on 
the grass, not speaking a word, but keeping a vigilant eye 
on a very ugly little Utah squaw, of whom he was extremely 5 
jealous. 

On the next day we traveled farther, crossing the wide 
sterile basin called Goche's Hole.° Toward night we be- 
came involved among deep ravines; and being also un- 
able to find water, our journey was protracted to a very 10 
late hour. On the next morning we had to pass a long 
line of bluffs, whose raw sides, wrought upon by rains 
and storms, were of a ghastly whiteness most oppressive 
to the sight. As we ascended a gap in these hills, the 
way was marked by huge foot-prints, like those of a human 15 
giant. They were the track of the grizzly bear; and on 
the previous day also we had seen abundance of them along 
the dry channels of the streams we had passed. Imme- 
diately after this we were crossing a barren plain, spread- 
ing in long and gentle undulations to the horizon. Though 20 
the sun was bright, there was a light haze in the atmosphere. 
The distant hills assumed strange, distorted forms, and the 
edge' of the horizon was continually changing its aspect. 
Shaw and I were riding together, and Henry Chatillon was 
alone, a few rods before us; he stopped his horse suddenly, 25 
and turning round with the peculiar eager and earnest ex- 
pression which he always wore when excited, he called us 
to come forward. We galloped to his side. Henry pointed 
toward a black speck on the gray swell of the prairie, ap- 
parently about a mile off. "It must be a bear," said he; 30 
''come, now, we shall all have some sport. Better fun to 
fight him than to fight an old buffalo bull; grizzly bear so 
strong and smart." 

So we all galloped forward together, prepared for a hard 
fight; for these bears, though clumsy in appearance and 35 
extremely large, are incredibly fierce and active. The 
swell of the prairie concealed the black object from our 
view. Immediately after it appeared again. But now it 
seemed quite near to us; and as we looked at it in aston- 
ishment, it suddenly separated into two parts, each of 40 
which took wing and flew away. We stopped our horses 



252 THE OREGON TRAIL 

and looked round at Henry, whose face exhibited a curious 
mixture of mirth and mortification. His hawk's eye had 
been so completely deceived by the peculiar atmosphere 
that he had mistaken two large crows at the distance of fifty 
5 rods for a grizzly bear a mile off. To the journey's end 
Henry never heard the last of the grizzly bear with wings. 

In the afternoon we came to the foot of a considerable 
hill. As w^e ascended it Rouville began to ask questions 
concerning our condition and prospects at home, and 

lo Shaw was edifying him with a minute account of an imagi- 
nary wife and child, to which he listened with im.plicit 
faith. Reaching the top of the hill we saw the windings of 
Horse creek on the plains below us, and a little on the 
left we could distinguish the camp of Bisonette among the 

15 trees and copses along the course of the stream. Rouville's 
face assumed just then a most ludicrously blank expres- 
sion. We inquired what was the matter; when it ap- 
peared that Bisonette had sent him from this place to Fort 
Laramie with the sole object of bringing back a supply of 

20 tobacco. Our rattlebrain friend, from the time of his 
reaching the fort up to the present moment, had entirely 
forgotten the object of his journey, and had ridden a dan- 
gerous hundred miles for nothing. Descending to Horse 
creek we forded it, and on the opposite bank a solitary In- 

25 dian sat on horseback under a tree. He said nothing, but 
turned and led the way toward the camp. Bisonette had 
made choice of an admirable position. The stream, with 
its thick growth of trees, inclosed on three sides a wide 
green meadow, where about forty Dahcotah lodges were 

30 pitched in a circle, and beyond them half a dozen lodges of 
the friendly Cheyenne. Bisonette himself lived in the 
Indian manner. Riding up to his lodge, we found him seated 
at the head of it, surrounded by various apphanccs of com- 
fort not common on the prairie. His squaw was near him, 

2^r and rosy children were scrambling about in printed-calico 
gowns; Paul Dorion also, with his leathery face and old 
white capote, was seated in the lodge, together with An- 
toine Le Rouge, a half-breed Pawnee, Sibille, a trader, and 
several other white men. 

40 "It will do you no harm," said Bisonette, "to stay here 
with us for a day or two, before you start for the Pueblo," ° 



THE LONELY JOURNEY 253 

We accepted the iiiAdtation, and pitched our tent on a 
rising ground above the camp and close to the edge of the 
trees. Bisonette soon invited us to a feast, and we suf- 
fered abundance of the same sort of attention from his 
Indian associates. The reader may possibly recollect that 5 
when I joined the Indian village, beyond the Black hills, 
I found that a few families were absent, having declined 
to pass the mountains along with the rest. The Indians 
in Bisonette's camp consisted of these very families, and 
many of them came to me that evening to inquire after lo 
their relatives and friends. They were not a little morti- 
fied to learn that while they, from their own timidity and 
indolence, were almost in a starving condition, the rest of 
the village had provided their lodges for the next season, 
laid in a great stock of provisions, and were living in abun- 15 
dance and luxury. Bisonette's companions had been sus- 
taining themselves for some time on wild cherries, which 
the squaws pounded up, stones and all, and spread on 
buffalo robes, to dry in the sun ; they were then eaten with- 
cut further preparation, or used as an ingredient in various 20 
delectable compounds. 

On the next day the camp was in commotion with a new 
arrival. A single Indian had come with his family the 
whole way from the Arkansas. As he passed among the 
lodges he put on an expression of unusual dignity and 25 
importance, and gave out that he had brought great news 
to tell the whites. Soon after the squaws had erected his 
lodge, he sent his little son to invite all the white men, 
and all the more distinguished Indians, to a feast. The 
guests arrived and sat wedged together, shoulder to shoulder, 30 
within the hot and suffocating lodge. The Stabber, for 
that was our entertainer's name, had killed an old buffalo 
bull on his way. This veteran's boiled tripe, tougher than 
leather, formed the main item of the repa'^t. For the rest, 
it consisted of wild cherries and grease boiled together in a 35 
large copper kettle. The feast was distributed, and for a 
moment all was silent, strenuous exertion; then each guest, 
with one or two exceptions, however, turned his wooden 
dish bottom upward to prove that he had done full justice 
to his entertainer's hospitality. The Stabber next pro- 40 
duced his chopping board, on which he prepared the mix- 



254 THE OREGON TRAIL 

ture for smoking, and filled several pipes, which circulated 
among the company. This done, he seated himself upright 
on his couch, and began with much gesticulation to tell his 
story. I will not repeat his childish jargon. It was so en- 
5 tangled, like the greater part of an Indian's stories, with 
absurd and contradictory details, that it was almost impos- 
sible to disengage from it a single particle of truth. All 
that we could gather was the following: 

He had been on the Arkansas, and there he had seen 

losix great war parties of whites. He had never believed 
before that the whole world contained half so many white 
men. They all had large horses, long knives, and short 
rifles, and some of them were attired alike in the most 
splendid war dresses he had ever seen. From this account 

15 it was clear that bodies of dragoons and perhaps also of 
volunteer cavalry had been passing up the Arkansas. The 
Stabber had also seen a great many of the white lodges 
of the Meneaska, drawn by their long-horned buffalo. 
These could be nothing else than covered ox-wagons used 

20 no doubt in transporting stores for the troops. Soon after 
seeing this, our host had met an Indian who had lately 
come from among the Comanches. The latter had told 
him that all the Mexicans had gone out to a great buffalo 
hunt. That the Americans had hid themselves in a ravine. 

25 When the Mexicans had shot away all their arrows, the 
Americans had fired their guns, raised their war-whoop, 
rushed out, and killed them all. We could only infer 
from this that war had been declared with Mexico, and a 
battle fought in which the Americans were victorious. 

30 When, some weeks after, we arrived at the Pueblo, we 
heard of General Kearny's march ° up the Arkansas and of 
General Taylor's victories at Matamoras.° 

As the sun was setting that evening a great crowd gath- 
ered on the plain by the side of our tent, to try the speed 

35 of their horses. These were of every shape, size, and 
color. Some came from CaHfornia,° some from the states, 
some from among the mountains, and some from the wild 
bands of the prairie. They were of every hue — white, 
black, red, and gray, or mottled and clouded with a strange 

40 variety of colors. They all had a wild and startled look, 
very different from the staid and sober aspect of a well- 



THE LONELY JOURNEY 255 

bred city steed. Those most noted for swiftness and spirit 
were decorated with eagle-feathers danghng from their 
manes and tails. Fifty or sixty Dahcotahs were present, 
wrapped from head to foot in their heavy robes of whitened 
hide. There were also a considerable number of the Chey- 5 
enne, many of whom wore gaudy Mexican ponchos ° swathed 
around their shoulders, but leaving the right arm bare. 
Mingled among the crowd of Indians were a number of 
Canadians, chiefly in the employ of Bisonette; men, whose 
home is the wilderness, and who love the camp fire better 10 
than the domestic hearth. They are contented and happy 
in the midst of hardship, privation, and danger. Their 
cheerfulness and gayety is irrepressible, and no people on 
earth understand better how "to daff the world aside and 
bid it pass." Besides these, were two or three half-breeds, 15 
a race of rather extraordinary composition, being accord- 
ing to the common saying half Indian, half white man, and 
half devil. Antoine Le Rouge was the most conspicuous 
among them, with his loose pantaloons and his fluttering 
calico shirt. A handkerchief was bound round his head to 20 
confine his black snaky hair, and his small eyes twinkled 
beneath it, with a mischievous luster. He had a fine cream- 
colored horse whose speed he must needs try along with the 
rest. So he threw off the rude high-peaked saddle, and 
substituting a piece of buffalo robe, leaped lightly into his 25 
seat. The space was cleared, the word was given, and he 
and his Indian rival darted out like lightning from among the 
crowd, each stretching forward over his horse's neck and 
plying his heavy Indian whip with might and main. A 
moment, and both were lost in the gloom ; but Antoine 3° 
soon came riding back victorious, exultingiy patting the 
neck of his quivering and panting horse. 

About midnight, as I lay asleep, wrapped in a buffalo 
robe on the ground by the side of our cart, Raymond came 
up and woke me. Something he said, was going forward 35 
which I would like to see. Looking down into the camp 
I saw, on the farther side of it, a great number of Indians 
gathered around a fire, the bright glare of which made 
them visible through the thick darkness; while from the 
midst of them proceeded a loud, measured chant which 4° 
would have killed Paganini° outright, broken occasionally 



256 THE OREGON TRAIL 

by a burst of sharp yells. I gathered the robe around me, 
for the night was cold, and walked down to the spot. The 
dark throng of Indians was so dense that they almost inter- 
cepted the light of the flame. As I was pushing among 
5 them with but little ceremony, a chief interposed himself, 
and I was given to understand that a white man must not 
approach the scene of their solemnities too closely. By 
passing round to the other side, where there was a little 
opening in the crowd, I could see clearly what was going 

lo forward, without intruding my unhallowed presence into 
the inner circle. The society of the Strong Hearts were 
engaged in one of their dances. The Strong Hearts are a 
warlike association, comprising men of both the Dahcotah 
and Cheyenne nations, and entirely composed, or supposed 

15 to be so, of young braves of the highest mettle. Its fun- 
damental principle is the admirable one of never retreating 
from any enterprise once commenced. All these Indian 
associations have a tutelary spirit. That of the Strong 
Hearts is embodied in the fox, an animal which a white 

20 man would hardly have selected for a similar purpose, 
though his subtle and cautious character agrees well enough 
with an Indian's notions of what is honorable in warfare. 
The dancers were circling round and round the fire, each 
figure brightly illumined at one moment by the yellow 

25 light, and at the next drawn in blackest shadow as it passed 
between the flame and the spectator. They would imitate 
with the most ludicrous exactness the motions and the voice 
of their sly patron the fox. Then a startling 5'"ell would be 
given. Many other warriors would leap into the ring, and 

30 with faces upturned toward the starless sky, they would all 
stamp, and whoop, and brandish their w^eapons like so many 
frantic devils. 

Until the next afternoon we were still remaining with 
Bisonette. My companion and I with our three attendants 

35 then left his camp for the Pueblo, a distance of three hun- 
dred miles, and we supposed the journey would occupy 
about a fortnight. During this time we all earnestly 
hoped that we might not meet a single human being, for 
should we encounter any, they would in all probability 

40 be enemies, ferocious robbers and murderers, in whose 
eyes our rifles would be our only passports. For the first 



THE LONELY JoCRNEY 257 

two days nothing worth mentioning took place. On the 
third morning, however, an untoward incident occurred. 
We were encamped by the side of a httle brook in an ex- 
tensive hollow of the plain. Deslauriers was up long before 
daylight, and before he began to prepare breakfast he 5 
turned loose all the horses, as in duty bound. There was 
a cold mist clinging close to the ground, and by the time 
the rest of us were awake the animals were invisible. It 
was only after a long and anxious search that we could 
discover by their tracks the direction they had taken. 10 
They had all set off for Fort Laramie, following the guid- 
ance of a mutinous old mule, and though many of them 
were hobbled they had traveled three miles before they 
could be overtaken and driven back. 

For two or three days we were passing over an arid desert. 15 
The only vegetation was a few tufts of short grass, dried 
and shriveled by the heat. There was an abundance 
of strange insects and reptiles. Huge crickets, black and 
bottle green, and wingless grasshoppers of the most extrava- 
gant dimensions, were tumbling about our horses' feet, and 20 
lizards without number were darting like lightning among 
the tufts of grass. The most curious animal, however, was 
that ' commonly called the horned frog. I caught one of 
them and consigned him to the care of Deslauriers, who 
tied him up in a moccasin. About a month after this I 25 
examined the prisoner's condition, and finding him still 
lively and active, I provided him with a cage of buffalo hide, 
which was hung up in the cart. In this manner he arrived 
safely at the settlements. From thence he traveled the 
whole way to Boston packed closely in a trunk, being re- 30 
galed with fresh air regularly every night. When he 
reached his destination he was deposited under a glass case, 
where he sat for some months in great tranquillity and 
composure, alternately dilating and contracting his white 
throat to the admiration of his visitors. At length, one 35 
morning, about the middle of winter, he gave up the ghost. 
His death was attributed to starvation, a very probable 
conclusion, since for six months he had taken no food what- 
ever, though the sympathy of his juvenile admirers had 
tempted his palate with a great variety of delicacies. We 40 
found also animals of a somewhat larger growth. The 



258 THE OREGON TRAIL 

number of prairie dogs was absolutely astounding. Fre- 
quently the hard and dry prairie would be thickly covered, 
for many miles together, with the little mounds which they 
make around the mouths of their burrows, and small squeak- 
5 ing voices yelping at us as we passed along. The noses of 
the inhabitants would be just visible at the mouths of their 
holes, but no sooner was their curiosity satisfied than they 
would instantly vanish. Some of the bolder dogs — though 
in fact they are no dogs at all, but little marmots rather 

lo smaller than a rabbit — would sit yelping at us on the tops 
of their mounds, jerking their tails emphatically with every 
shrill cry they uttered. As the danger drew nearer they 
would wheel about, toss their heels into the air, and dive 
in a twinkling down into their burrows. Toward sunset, 

15 and especially if rain were threatening, the whole com- 
munity would make their appearance above ground. We 
would see them gathered in large knots around the burrow 
of some favorite citizen. There they would all sit erect, 
their tails spread out on the ground, and their paws hang- 

20 ing down before their white breasts, chattering and squeak- 
ing with the utmost vivacity upon some topic of common 
interest, while the proprietor of the burrow, with his head 
just visible on the top of his mound, would sit looking 
down with a complacent countenance on the enjoyment 

25 of his guests. Meanwhile, others would be running about 
from burrow to burrow, as if on some errand of the last 
importance to their subterranean commonwealth. The 
snakes are apparently the prairie dog's worst enemies, at 
least I think too well of the latter to suppose that they 

30 associate on friendly terms with these slimy intruders, 
who may be seen at all times basking among their holes, 
into which they always retreat when disturbed. Small 
owls, with wise and grave countenances, also make their 
abode with the prairie dogs, though on what terms they 

35 live together I could never ascertain. The manners and 
customs, the political and domestic economy of these little 
marmots is worthy of closer attention than one is able to 
give when pushing by forced marches through their coun- 
try, with his thoughts engrossed by objects of greater mo- 

40 ment. 

On the fifth day after leaving Bisonette's camp we saw 



THE LONELY JOURNEY 259 



late in the afternoon what we supposed to be a consider- 
able stream, but on our approaching it we found to our 
mortification nothing but a dry bed of sand into which all 
the water had sunk and disappeared. We separated, 
some riding in one direction and some in another along its 5 
course. Still we found no traces of water, not even so much 
as a wet spot in the sand. The old cotton-wood trees that 
grew along the bank, lamentably abused by lightning and 
tempest, were withering with the drought, and on the dead 
limbs, at the summit of the tallest, half a dozen crows were 10 
hoarsely cawing like birds of evil omen as they were. We 
had no alternative but to keep on. There was no water 
nearer than the South fork of the Platte, about ten miles 
distant. We moved forward, angry and silent, over a desert 
as flat as the outspread ocean. 15 

The sky had been obscured since the morning by thin 
mists and vapors, but now vast piles of clouds were gath- 
ered together in the west. They rose to a great height 
above the horizon, and looking up toward them I distin- 
guished one mass darker than the rest and of a peculiar 20 
conical form. I happened to look again and still could 
see it as before. At some moments it was dimly seen, at 
othefs its outhne was sharp and distinct; but while the 
clouds around it were shifting, changing, and dissolving 
away, it still towered aloft in the midst of them, fixed and 25 
immovable. It must, thought I, be the summit of a moun- 
tain, and yet its height staggered me. My conclusion was 
right, however. It was Long's peak,° once believed to be 
one of the highest of the Rocky mountain chain, though 
more recent discoveries have proved the contrary. The 30 
thickening gloom soon hid it from view and we never saw it 
again, for on the following day and for some time after, the 
air was so full of mist that the view of distant objects was 
entirely intercepted. 

It grew very late. Turning from our direct course we 35 
made for the river at its nearest point, though in the utter 
darkness it was not easy to direct our way with much pre- 
cision. Raymond rode on one side and Henry on the 
other. We could hear each of them shouting that he had 
come upon a deep ravine. We steered at random be- 4q 
tween Scylla and Charybdis,° and soon after became, as it 



260 THE OREGON TRAIL 

seemed, inextricably involved with deep chasms all around 
us, while the darkness was such that we could not see a 
rod in any direction. We partially extricated ourselves 
by scrambling, cart and all, through a shallow ravine. We 
5 came next to a steep descent, down which we plunged 
without well knowing what was at the bottom. There 
was a great crackling of sticks and dry twigs. Over our 
heads were certain large shadowy objects, and in front 
something like the faint gleaming of a dark sheet of water. 

lo Raymond ran his horse against a tree ; Henry alighted, 
and feeling on the ground declared that there was grass 
enough for the horses. Before taking off his saddle each 
man led his own horses down to the water in the best way 
he could. Then picketing two or three of the evil-dis- 

15 posed we turned the rest loose and lay down among the 
dry sticks to sleep. In the morning we found ourselves 
close to the South fork of the Platte on a spot surrounded 
by bushes and rank grass. Compensating ourselves with a 
hearty breakfast for the ill fare of the previous night, 

20 we set forward again on our journey. When only two or 
three rods from the camp I saw Shaw stop his mule, level 
his gun, and after a long aim fire at some object in the 
grass. Deslauriers next jumped forward and began to dance 
about, belaboring the unseen enemy with a whip. Then 

25 he stooped down and drew out of the grass by the neck 
an enormous rattlesnake, with his head completely shat- 
tered by Shaw's bullet. As Deslauriers held him out at 
armi's length with an exulting grin, his tail, which still kept 
slowly writhing about, almost touched the ground, and 

30 the body in the largest part was as thick as a stout man's 
arm. He had fourteen rattles, but the end of his tail w^as 
blunted, as if he could once have boasted of many more. 
From this time till we reached the Pueblo we killed at 
least four or five of these snakes every day as they lay 

35 coiled and rattling on the hot sand. Shaw was the St. 
Patrick ° of the party, and whenever he or any one else killed 
a snake he always pulled off his tail and stored it away in 
his bullet-pouch, which was soon crammed with an edify- 
ing collection of rattles, great and small. Deslauriers, 

40 with his whip, also came in for a share of the praise. A 
day or two after this he triumphantly produced a small 



THE LONELY JOURNEY 261 

snake about a span and a half long, with one infant rattle 
at the end of his tail. 

We forded the South fork of the Platte. On its farther 
bank were the traces of a very large camp of Arapahoes. 
The ashes of some three hundred fires were visible among 5 
the scattered trees, together with the remains of sweating 
lodges, and all the other appurtenances of a permanent 
camp. The place however had been for some months 
deserted. A few miles farther on we found more recent 
signs of Indians ; the trail of two or three lodges, which 10 
had evidently passed the day before, where every foot- 
print was perfectly distinct in the dry, dusty soil. We 
noticed in particular the track of one moccasin, upon 
the sole of which its economical proprietor had placed a 
large patch. These signs gave us but little uneasiness, 15 
as the number of the warriors scarcely exceeded that of 
our own party. At noon we rested under the walls of 
a large fort, built in these solitudes some years since by 
M. St. Vrain.° It was now abandoned and fast falling 
into ruin. The walls of unbaked bricks were cracked 20 
from top to bottom. Our horses recoiled in terror from 
the neglected entrance, where the heavy gates were torn 
from their hinges and flung down. The area Within was 
overgrown with weeds, and the long ranges of apartments, 
once occupied by the motley concourse of traders, Cana- 25 
dians, and squaws, were now miserably dilapidated. Twelve 
miles farther on, near the spot where we encamped, were 
the remains of still another fort, standing in melancholy 
desertion and neglect. 

Early on the following morning we made a startling 30 
discovery. We passed close by a large deserted encamp- 
ment of Arapahoes. There were about fifty fires still 
smoldering on the ground, and it was evident from numer- 
ous signs that the Indians must have left the place within 
two hours of our reaching it. Their trail crossed our own 35 
at right angles, and led in the direction of a line of hills 
half a mile on our left. There were women and children 
in the party, which would have greatly diminished the 
danger of encountering them. Henry Chatillon examined 
the encampment and the trail with a very professional and 40 
businesslike air. 



262 THE OREGON TRAIL 

"Supposing we had met them, Hemy?" said I. 
"Why," said he, "we hold out our hands to them, and 
give them all we've got; they take away everything, and 
then I believe they no kill us. Perhaps," added he, looking 
5 up with a quiet, unchanged face, "perhaps we no let them 
rob us. Maybe before tiiey come near, we have a chance 
to get into a ravine, or under the bank of the river; then, 
you know, we fight them." 

About noon on that day we reached Cherry creek. Here 

lo was a great abundance of wild cherries, plums, gooseberries, 
and currants. The stream, however, like most of the 
others which we passed, was dried up with the heat, and we 
had to dig holes in the sand to find water for ourselves and 
our horses. Two da3^s after, we left the banks of the creek 

IS which we had been following for some time, and began to 
cross the high dividing ridge which separates the waters of 
the Platte from those of the Arkansas. The scenery was 
altogether changed. In place of the burning plains we 
were passing now through rough and savage glens and 

20 among hills crowned with a dreary growth of pines. We 
encamped among these solitudes on the night of the six- 
teenth of August. A tempest was threatening. The sun 
went down among volumes of jet-black cloud, edged with 
a bloody red. But in spite of these portentous signs, we 

25 neglected to put up the tent, and being extremely fatigued, 
lay down on the ground and fell asleep. The storm broke 
about midnight, and we erected the tent amid darkness and 
confusion. In the morning all was fair again, and Pike's 
peak,° white with snow, was towering above the wilderness 

30 afar off. 

We pushed through an extensive tract of pine woods. 
Large black squirrels were leaping among the branches. 
From the farther edge of this forest we saw the prairie 
again, hollowed out before us into a vast basin, and about 

35 a mile in front we could discern a little black speck moving 
upon its surface. It could be nothing but a buffalo. Henry 
primed his rifle afresh and galloped forward. To the left 
of the animal was a low rocky mound, of which Henry 
availed himself in making his approach. After a short time 

40 we heard the faint report of the rifle. The bull, mortaUy 
wounded from a distance of nearly three hundred yards, 



THE LONELY JOURNEY 263 

ran wildly round and round in a circle. Shaw and I then 
galloped forward, and passing him as he ran, foaming with 
rage and pain, we discharged our pistols into his side. 
Once or twice he rushed furiously upon us, but his strength 
was rapidly exhausted. Do.wn he fell on his knees. For 5 
one instant he glared up at his enemies with burning eyes 
through his black tangled mane, and then rolled over on his 
side. Though gaunt and thin, he was larger and heavier 
than the largest ox. Foam and blood flew together from 
his nostrils as he lay bellowing and pawing the ground, 10 
tearing up grass and earth with his hoofs. His sides rose 
and fell like a vast pair of bellows, the blood spouting up in 
jets from the bullet-holes. Suddenly his glaring eyes be- 
came like a lifeless jelly. He lay motionless on the ground. 
Henry stooped over him, and making an incision with his 15 
knife, pronounced the meat too rank and tough for use; so, 
disappointed in our hopes of an addition to our stock of 
provisions, we rode away and left the carcass to the wolves. 

In the afternoon we saw the mountains rising like a 
gigantic wall at no great distance on our right. " Des 20 
sauvages f des sauvages /" exclaimed Deslauriers, looking 
round with a frightened face, and pointing with his whip 
toward the foot of the mountains. In fact, we could see 
at a distance a number of little black specks, like horse- 
men in rapid motion. Henry Chatillon, with Shaw and 25 
myself, galloped toward them to reconnoiter, when to 
our amusement we saw the supposed Arapahoes resolved 
into the black tops of some pine trees which grew along a 
ravine. The summits of these pines, just visible above 
the verge of the prairie, and seeming to move as we our- 3° 
selves were advancing, looked exactly like a line of horse- 
men. 

We encamped among ravines and hollows, through 
which a little brook was foaming angrily. Before sun- 
rise in the morning the snow-covered mountains were beauti- 35 
fully tinged with a delicate rose color. A noble spectacle 
awaited us as we moved forward. Six or eight miles on 
our right. Pike's peak and his giant brethren rose out of 
the level prairie, as if springing from the bed of the ocean. 
From their summits down to the plain below they were 40 
involved in a mantle of clouds, in restless motion, as if 



264 THE OREGON TRAIL 

urged by strong winds. For one instant some snowy peak, 
towering in awful solitude, would be disclosed to view. As 
the clouds broke along the mountain, we could see the 
dreary forests, the tremendous precipices, the white patches 
5 of snow, the gulfs and chasms as black as night, all revealed 
for an instant, and then disappearing from the view. One 
could not but recall the stanza of Childe Harold ° : 

Morn dawns, and with it stern Albania's hills, 
Dark Suli's rocks, and Pindus' inland peak, 

lo Robed half in mist, bedewed with snowy rills, 

Array'd in many a dun and purjDle streak, 
Arise ; and, as the clouds along them break. 
Disclose the dwelling of the mountaineer: 
Here roams the wolf, the eagle whets his beak, 

15 Birds, beasts of prey, and wilder men appear, 

And gathering storms around convulse the closing year. 

Every line save one of this description was more than 
verified here. There were no "dwellings of the moun- 
taineer" among these heights. Fierce savages, restlessly 

20 wandering through summer and winter, alone invade 
them. Their hand is against every man, and every man's 
hand against them. 

On the day after we had left the mountains at some 
distance. A black cloud descended upon them, and a 

25 tremendous explosion of thunder followed, reverberating 
among the precipices. In a few moments everything 
grew black and the rain poured down like a cataract. We 
got under an old cotton-wood tree which stood by the 
tide of a stream, and waited there till the rage of the torrent 

30 had passed. 

The clouds opened at the point where they first had 
gathered, and the whole sublime congregation of moun- 
tains was bathed at once in warm sunshine. They seemed 
more like some luxurious vision of Eastern romance than 

35 like a reality of that wilderness ; all were melted together 
into a soft delicious blue, as voluptuous as the sky of 
Naples ° or the transparent sea that washes the sunny cliffs 
of Capri. On the left the whole sky was still of an inky 
blackness; but two concentric rainbows stood in brilliant 

40 relief against it, while far in front the ragged cloud still 



THE LONELY JOURNEY 265 

streamed before the wind, and the retreating thunder 
muttered angrily. 

Through that afternoon and the next morning we were 
passing down the banks of the stream called La Fontaine 
qui Bouille, from the boiling spring whose waters flow 5 
into it. When we stopped at noon, we were within six 
or eight miles of the Pueblo. Setting out again, we found 
b}^ the fresh tracks that a horseman had just been out to 
reconnoiter us; he had circled half round the camp, and 
then galloped back full speed for the Pueblo. What made 10 
him so shy of us we could not conceive. After an hour's 
ride we reached the edge of a hill, from which a welcome 
sight greeted us. The Arkansas ran along the valley be- 
low, among woods and groves, and closely nestled in the 
midst of wide cornfields and green meadows where cattle 15 
were grazing rose the low mud walls of the Pueblo. 



CHAPTER XXI 

THE PUEBLO AND BENT's FORT 

We approached the gate of the Pueblo. It was a wretched 
species of fort of most primitive construction, being noth- 
ing more than a large square inclosure, surrounded by a 
wall of mud, miserably cracked and dilapidated. The 
5 slender pickets that surmounted it were half broken down, 
and the gate dangled on its wooden hinges so loosely, that 
to open or shut it seemed likely to fling it down altogether. 
Two or three squalid Mexicans, with their broad hats, and 
their vile faces overgrown with hair, were lounging about 

lo the bank of the river in front of it. They disappeared as 
they saw us approach; and as we rode up to the gate a light 
active little figure came out to meet us. It was our old 
friend Richard. He had come from Fort Laramie on a 
trading expedition to Taos ; but finding, when he reached the 

15 Pueblo, that the war would prevent his going farther, he 
was quietly waiting till the conquest of the country should 
allow him to proceed. He seemed to consider himself 
bound to do the honors of the place. Shaking us warmly 
by the hand, he led the way into the area. 

20 Here we saw his large Santa Fe wagons standing together. 
A few squaws and Spanish women, and a few Mexicans, as 
mean and miserable as the place itself, were lazily sauntering 
about. Richard conducted us to the state apartment of the 
Pueblo, a small mud room, very neatly finished, consider- 

25 ing the material, and garnished with a crucifix, a looking- 
glass, a picture of the Virgin, and a rusty horse pistol. 
There were no chairs, but instead of them a number of chests 
and boxes ranged about the room. There was another 
room beyond, less sumptuously decorated, and here three 

30 or four Spanish girls, one of them very pretty, were baking 
cakes at a mud fireplace in the corner. They brought out a 
poncho, which they spread upon the floor by way of table- 
cloth. A supper, which seemed to us luxurious, was soon 
266 



THE PUEBLO AND BENT^S FORT 267 

laid out upon it, and folded buffalo robes were placed around 
it to receive the guests. Two or three Americans, besides 
ourselves, were present. We sat down Turkish fashion, ° 
and began to inquire the news. Richard told us that, 
about three weeks before. General Kearny's army had 5 
left Bent's fort to march against Santa re°; that when last 
heard from they were approaching the mountainous defiles 
that led to the city. One of the Americans produced a 
dingy newspaper, containing an account of the battles of 
Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma.° While we were dis- 10 
cussing these matters, the doorway was darkened by a 
tall, shambling fellow, who stood with his hands in his 
pockets taking a leisurely survey of the premises before 
he entered. He wore brown homespun pantaloons, much 
too short for his legs, and a pistol and bowie knife stuck 15 
in his belt. His head and one eye were enveloped in a huge 
bandage of white linen. Having completed his observa- 
tions, he came slouching in and sat down on a chest. Eight 
or ten more of the same stamp followed, and very coolly 
arranging themselves about the room, began to stare at the 20 
company. Shaw and I looked at each other. We were 
forcibly reminded of the Oregon emigrants, though these 
unwelcome visitors had a certain glitter of the eye, and a 
compression of the lips, which distinguished them from our 
old acquaintances of the prairie. They began to catechise 25 
us at once, inquiring whence we had come, what we meant 
to do next, and what were our future prospects in life. 

The man with the bandaged head had met with an un- 
toward accident a few days before. He was going down 
to the river to bring water, and was pushing through the 30 
young willows which covered the low ground, when he came 
unawares upon a grizzly bear, which, having just eaten a 
buffalo bull, had lain down to sleep off the meal. The bear 
rose on his hind legs, and gave the intruder such a blow 
with his paw that he laid his forehead entirely bare, clawed 35 
off the front of his scalp, and narrowly missed one of his 
eyes. Fortunately he was not in a very pugnacious mood, 
being surfeited with his late meal. The man's companions, 
who were close behind, raised a shout and the bear walked 
away, crushing down the willows in his leisurely retreat. 40 

These men belonged to a party of Mormons, who, out 



268 THE OREGON TRAIL 

of a well-grounded fear of the other emigrants, had post- 
poned leaving the settlements until all the rest were gone. 
On account of this delay they did not reach Fort Laramie 
until it was too late to continue their journey to California. 
5 Hearing that there was good land at the head of the Ar- 
kansas, they crossed over under the guidance of Richard, 
and were now preparing to spend the winter at a spot about 
half a mile from the Pueblo. 

When we took leave of Richard, it was near sunset. 

lo Passing out of the gate, we could look down the little valley 
of the Arkansas; a beautiful scene, and doublj'- so to our 
eyes, so long accustomed to deserts and mountains. Tall 
woods lined the river, with green meadows on either hand ; 
and high bluffs, quietly basking in the sunlight, flanked 

15 the narrow valley. A Mexican on horseback was driving 
a herd of cattle toward the gate, and our little white tent, 
which the men had pitched under a large tree in the 
meadow, made a very pleasing feature in the scene. When 
we reached it, we found that Richard had sent a Mexican to 

20 bring us an abundant supply of green corn and vegetables, 
and invite us to help ourselves to whatever we wished from 
the fields around the Pueblo. 

The inhabitants were in daily apprehensions of an inroad 
from more formidable consumers than ourselves. Every 

25 year at the time when the corn begins to ripen, the Ara- 
pahoes, to the number of several thousands, come and 
encamp around the Pueblo. The handful of white men, 
who are entirely at the mercy of this swarm of barbarians, 
choose to make a merit of necessitj^; they come forward 

30 very cordially, shake them by the hand, and intimate that 
the harvest is entirely at their disposal. The Arapahoes 
take them at their word, help themselves most liberally, 
and usually turn their horses into the cornfields afterward. 
They have the foresight, however, to leave enough of the 

35 crops untouched to serve as an inducement for planting the 
fields again for their benefit in the next spring. 

The human race in this part of the world is separated 
into three divisions, arranged in the order of their merits; 
white men, Indians, and Mexicans; to the latter of whom 

40 the honorable title of ''whites" is by no means conceded. 
In spite of the warm sunset of that evening the next morn- 



THE PUEBLO AND BENT^S FORT 269 

ing was a dreary and cheerless one. It rained steadily, 
clouds resting upon the very treetops. We crossed the river 
to visit the Mormon settlement. As we passed through the 
water, several trappers on horseback entered it from the 
other side. Their buckskin frocks were soaked through 5 
by the rain, and clung fast to their limbs with a most clammy 
and uncomfortable look. The water was trickling down 
their faces, and dropping from the ends of their rifles, and 
from the traps which each carried at the pommel of his 
saddle. Horses and all, they had a most disconsolate and 10 
woebegone appearance, which we could not help laughing 
at, forgetting how often we ourselves had been in a similar 
phght. 

After half an hour's riding we saw the white wagons of 
the Mormons drawn up among the trees. Axes were sound- 15 
ing, trees were falling, and log-huts going up along the edge 
of the woods and upon the adjoining meadow. As we came 
up the Mormons left their work and seated themselves on 
the timber around us, when they began earnestly to discuss 
points of theology, complain of the ill-usage they had re- 20 
ceived from the "gentiles," and sound a lamentation over 
the loss of their great temple at Nauvoo.° After remaining 
with 'them an hour we rode back to our camp, happy that 
the settlements had been delivered from the presence of 
such blind and desperate fanatics. 25 

On the morning after this we left the Pueblo for Bent's 
fort. The conduct of Raymond had lately been less satis- 
factory than before, and we had discharged him as soon 
as we arrived at the former place; so that the party, our- 
selves included, was now reduced to four. There was some 30 
uncertainty as to our future course. The trail between 
Bent's fort and the settlements, a distance computed at 
six hundred miles, was at this time in a dangerous state; 
for since the passage of General Kearny's army, great 
numbers of hostile Indians, chiefly Pawnees and Coman- 35 
ches, had gathered about some parts of it. A little after 
this time they became so numerous and audacious, that 
scarcely a single party, however large, passed between 
the fort and the frontier without some token of their hos- 
tility. The newspapers of the time sufficiently displa}- 4c 
this state of things. Many men were killed, and great 



270 THE OREGON TRAIL 

numbers of horses and mules carried off. Not long since 1 
met with the gentleman, who, during the autumn, came 
from Santa Fe to Bent's fort, when he found a party of 
seventy men, who thought themselves too weak to go 
5 down to the settlements alone, and were waiting there for 
a reinforcement. Though this excessive timidity fully 
proves the ignorance and credulity of the men, it may 
also evince the state of alarm which prevailed in the country. 
When we were there in the month of August, the danger 

lo had not become so great. There was nothing very attrac- 
tive in the neighborhood. We supposed, moreover, that 
we might wait there half the winter without finding any 
party to go down with us; for Mr. Sublette and the others 
whom we had relied upon had, as Richard told us, already 

15 left Bent's fort. Thus far on our journey Fortune had 
kindly befriended us. We resolved therefore to take ad- 
vantage of her gracious mood and trusting for a continu- 
ance of her favors, to set out with Henry and Deslauriers, 
and run the gauntlet of the Indians in the best way we 

20 could. 

Bent's fort stands on the river, about seventy-five miles 
below the Pueblo. At noon of the third day we arrived 
within three or four miles of it, pitched our tent under a 
tree, hung our looking-glasses against its trunk, and having 

25 made our } rimitive toilet, rode toward the fort. We soon 
came in sight of it, for it is visible from a considerable dis- 
tance, standing with its high clay walls in the midst of 
the scorching plains. It seemed as if a swarm of locusts 
had invaded the country. The grass for miles around was 

30 cropped close by the horses of General Kearny's soldiery. 
When we came to the fort, we found that not only had 
the horses eaten up the grass, but their owners had made 
away with the stores of the little trading post; so that we 
had great diflSculty in procuring the few articles which we 

35 required for our homeward journey. The army was gone, 
the life and bustle passed away, and the fort was a scene 
of dull and lazy tranquillity. A few invalid officers and 
soldiers sauntered about the area, which was oppressively 
hot; for the glaring sun was reflected down upon it from the 

40 high white walls around. The proprietors® were absent, and 
we were received by Mr. Holt, who had been left in charge 



THE PUEBLO AND BENT'S FORT 271 

of the fort. He invited us to dinner, where, to our ad- 
miration, we found a table laid with a white cloth, with 
castors in the center and chairs placed around it. This 
unwonted repast concluded, we rode back to our camp. 

Here, as we lay smoking round the fire after supper, we 5 
saw through the dusk three men approaching from the di- 
rection of the fort. They rode up and seated themselves 
near us on the ground. The foremost was a tall, well- 
formed man, with a face and manner such as inspire con- 
fidence at once. He wore a broad hat of felt, slouching 10 
and tattered, and the rest of his attire consisted of a frock 
and leggings of buckskin, rubbed with the yellow clay found 
among the mountains. At the heel of one of his moccasins 
was buckled a huge iron spur, with a rowel ° five or six 
inches in diameter. His horse, who stood quietly looking 15 
over his head, had a rude Mexican saddle, covered with a 
shaggy bearskin, and furnished with a pair of wooden stir- 
rups of most preposterous size. The next man was a 
sprightly, active little fellow, about five feet and a quarter 
high, but very strong and compact. His face was swarthy 20 
as a Mexican's and covered with a close, curly black beard. 
An old greasy calico handkerchief was tied round his head, 
and fiis close buckskin dress was blackened and polished 
by grease and hard service. The last who came up was a 
large strong man, dressed in the coarse homespun of the 25 
frontiers, who dragged his long limbs over the ground as if 
he were too lazy for the effort. He had a sleepy gray eye, 
a retreating chin, an open mouth, and a protruding upper lip, 
which gave him an air of exquisite indolence and helpless- 
ness. He was armed with an old United States yager, ° 30 
which redoubtable weapon, though he could never hit his 
mark with it, he was accustomed to cherish as the very 
sovereign of firearms. 

The first two men belonged to a party who had just 
come from California with a large band of horses, which 35 
they had disposed of at Bent's fort. Munroe, the taller 
of the two, was from Iowa. He was an excellent fellow, 
open, warm-hearted, and intelligent. Jim Gurney, the 
short man, was a Boston sailor, who had come in a trad- 
ing vessel to California, and taken the fancy to return across 40 
the continent. The journey had already made him an 



272 THE OREGON TRAIL 

expert ''mountain-man," and he presented the extraor- 
dinary phenomenon of a sailor who understood how to 
manage a horse. The third of our visitors, named Ellis, was 
a Missourian, who had come out with a party of Oregon 
5 emigrants, but having got as far as Bridge's^ fort, he had 
fallen home-sick, or as Jim averred, love-sick — and Ellis 
was just the man to be balked in a love adventure. He 
thought proper to join the California men and return home- 
ward in their company. 

lo They now requested that they might unite with our 
party, and make the journey to the settlements in company 
with us. We readily assented, for we liked the appearance 
of the first two men, and were very glad to gain so efficient 
a reinforcement. We told them to meet us on the next 

15 evening at a spot on the river side, about six miles below 
the fort. Having smoked a pipe together, our new allies 
left us, and we lay down to sleep. 



CHAPTER XXII 

TETE ROUGE, THE VOLUNTEER 

The next morning, having directed Deslauriers to repair 
with his cart to the place of meeting, we came again to 
the fort to make some arrangements for the journey. After 
completing these we sat down under a sort of porch, to smoke 
with some Cheyenne Indians whom w^e found there. In a 5 
few minutes we saw an extraordinary little figure approach 
us in a military dress. He had a small, round countenance, 
garnished about the e3^es with the kind of wrinkles commonly 
known as crow's feet and surrounded by an abundant crop 
of red curls, with a -little cap resting on the top of them. 10 
Altogether, he had the look of a man more conversant with 
mint juleps ° and oyster suppers than with the hardships 
of prairie service. He came up to us and entreated that 
we would take him home to the settlements, saying that 
unless he went with us he should have to stay all winter at 15 
the fort. We liked our petitioner's appearance so little that 
we excused ourselves from complying with his request. 
At this he begged us so hard to take pity on him, looked so 
disconsolate, and told so lamentable a story that at last we 
consented, though not without many misgivings. 20 

The rugged Anglo-Saxon of our new recruit's real name 
proved utterly unmanageable on the lips of our French 
attendants, and Henry Chatillon, after various abortive 
attempts to pronounce it, one day coolly christened him 
Tete Rouge, ° in honor of his red curls. He had at different 25 
times been clerk of a Mississippi steamboat, and agent in 
a trading establishment at Nauvoo, besides filling various 
other capacities, in all of which he had seen much more 
of life than was good for him. In the spring, thinking that 
a summer's campaign would be an agreeable recreation, he 30 
had joined a company of St. Louis volunteers. 

"There were three of us," said Tete Rouge, "me and Bill 
T 273 



274 THE OREGON TRAIL 

Stevens and John Hopkins. We thought we would just 
go out with the army, and when we had conquered the 
country, we would get discharged and take our pay, you 
know, and go down to Mexico. They say there is plenty of 
5 fun going on there. Then we could go back to New Orleans 
by way of Vera Cruz." ° 

But Tete Rouge, like many a stouter volunteer, had 
reckoned without his host. Fighting Mexicans was a less 
amusing occupation than he had supposed, and his pleasure 

lo trip was disagreeably interrupted by brain fever, which 
attacked him when about halfway to Bent's fort. He 
jolted along through the rest of the journey in a baggage 
wagon. When they came to the fort he was taken out and 
left there, together with the rest of the sick. Bent's fort 

15 does not supply the best accommodations for an invalid. 
Tete Rouge's sick chamber was a little mud room, where he 
and a companion attacked by the same disease were laid 
together, with nothing but a buffalo robe between them 
and the ground. The assistant surgeon's deputy visited 

20 them once a day and brought them each a huge dose of 
calomel, ° the only medicine, according to his surviving 
victim, which he was acquainted with. 

Tete Rouge woke one morning, and tui'ning to his com- 
panion, saw his eyes fixed upon the beams above with the 

25 glassy stare of a dead man. At this the unfortunate vol- 
unteer lost his senses outright. In spite of the doctor, how- 
ever, he eventually recovered; though between the brain 
fever and the calomel, his mind, originally none of the 
strongest, was so much shaken that it had not quite re- 

30 covered its balance when we came to the fort. In spite of 
the poor fellow's tragic story, there was something so 
ludicrous in his appearance, and the whimsical contrast 
between his military dress and his most unmilitary de- 
meanor, that we could not help smiling at them. We 

35 asked him if he had a gun. He said they had taken it from 
him during his illness, and he had not seen it since; "but 
perhaps," he observed, looking at me with a beseech- 
ing air, "you will lend me one of your big pistols if we 
should meet with any Indians." I next inquired if 

40 he had a horse; he declared he had a magnificent one, 
and at Shaw's request a Mexican led him in for inspec- 



TETE ROUGE, THE VOLUNTEER 275 

lion. He exhibited the outhne of a good horse, but 
his eyes were sunk in the sockets, and every one of 
his ribs could be counted. There were certain marks too 
about his shoulders, which could be accounted for by the 
circumstance, that during Tete Rouge's illness, his com- 5 
panions had seized upon tte insulted charger, and har- 
nessed him to a cannon along with the draft horses. To 
Tete Rouge's astonishment we recommended him by all 
means to exchange the horse, if he could, for a mule. For- 
tunately the people at the fort were so anxious to get rid 10 
of him that they were willing to make some sacrifice to 
effect the object and he succeeded in getting a tolerable 
mule in exchange for the broken-down steed. 

A man soon appeared at the gate, leading in the mule 
by a cord which he placed in the hands of Tete Rouge, 15 
who, being somewhat afraid of his new acquisition, tried 
various flatteries and blandishments to induce her to come 
forward. The mule, knowing that she was expected to 
advance, stopped short in consequence, and stood fast as 
a rock, looking straight forward with immovable composure. 20 
Being stimulated by a blow from behind she consented 
to move, and walked nearly to the other side of the fort 
before she stopped again. Hearing the by-standers laugh, 
Tete Rouge plucked up spirit and tugged hard at the rope. 
The mule jerked backward, spun herself round, and made a 25 
dash for the gate. Tete Rouge, who clung manfully to the 
rope, went whisking through the air for a few rods, when he 
let go and stood with his mouth open, staring after the mule, 
who galloped away over the prairie. She was soon caught 
and brought back by a Mexican, who mounted a horse and 3° 
went in pursuit of her with his lasso. 

Having thus displayed his capacities for prairie traveling, 
Tete proceeded to supply himself with provisions for the 
journey, and with this view he applied to a quarter-master's 
assistant who was in the fort. This official had a face as 35 
sour as vinegar, being in a state of chronic indignation 
because he had been left behind the army. He was as anx- 
ious as the rest to get rid of Tete Rouge. So, producing 
a rusty key, he opened a low door which led to a half-sub- 
terranean apartment, into which the two disappeared to- 40 
gether. After some time they came out again, Tete Rouge 



276 THE OREGON TRAIL 

greatly embarrassed by a multiplicity of paper parcels con- 
taining the different articles of his forty days' rations. They 
were consigned to the care of Deslauriers, who about that 
time passed by with the cart on his way to the appointed 
5 place of meeting with Munroe and his companions. 

We next urged Tete Rouge to provide himself, if he 
could, with a gun. He accordingly made earnest appeals 
to the charity of various persons in the fort, but totally 
without success, a circumstance which did not greatly dis- 

lo turb us, since in the event of a skirmish he would be much 
more apt to do mischief to himself or his friends than to 
the eneaiy. When all these arrangements were completed 
we saddled our horses and were preparing to leave the fort, 
when looking round we discovered that our new associate 

15 was in fresh trouble. A man was holding the mule for him 
in the middle of the fort, while he tried to put the saddle 
on her back, but she kept stepping sideways and moving 
round and round in a circle until he was almost in despair. 
It required some assistance before all his difficulties could be 

20 overcome. At length he clambered into the black war 
saddle on which he was to have carried terror into the ranks 
of the Mexicans. 

"Get up," said Tete Rouge. "Come now, go along, will 
you." 

25 The mule walked deliberately forward out of the gate. 
Her recent conduct had inspired him with so much awe 
that he never dared to touch her with his whip. We trotted 
forward toward the place of meeting, but before he had 
gone far we saw that Tete Rouge's mule, who perfectly 

30 understood her rider, had stopped and was quietly grazing, 
in spite of his protestations, at some distance behind. So get- 
ting behind him, we drove him and the contumacious ° nmle 
before us, until we could see through the twilight the gleam- 
ing of a distant fire. Munroe, Jim, and Ellis were lying 

35 around it; their saddles, packs, and weapons were scattered 
about and their horses picketed near them. Deslauriers 
was there too with our little cart. Another fire was soon 
blazing high. We invited our new allies to take a cup of 
coffee with us. When both the others had gone over to 

40 their side of the camp, Jim Gurney still stood bj'' the blaze. . 
puffing hard at his httle black pipe, as short and weather- 
beaten as himself. 



T]^TE ROUGE, THE VOLUNTEER 277 

"Well!" he said, ''here are eight of us; we'll call it 
six — for them two boobies, Ellis over yonder, and that 
new man of yours, won't count for anything. We'll get 
through well enough, never fear for that, unless the Co- 
man ches happen to get foul of us." 5 



CHAPTER XXIII 

INDIAN ALARMS 

We began our journey for the frontier settlements on 
the twenty-seventh of i^ugust, and certainly a more raga- 
muffin cavalcade never was seen on the banks of the Upper 
Arkansas. Of the large and fine horses with which we had 
5 left the frontier in the spring, not one remained ; we had 
supplied their place with the rough breed of the prairie, as 
hardy as mules and almost as ugly; we had also with us a 
number of the latter detestable animals. In spite of their 
strength and hardihood, several of the band were already 

lo worn down by hard service and hard fare, and as none of 
them were shod, they were fast becoming foot-sore. Every 
horse and mule had a cord of twisted bull-hide coiled around 
his neck, which by no means added to the beauty of his 
appearance. Our saddles .^nd all our equipments were by 

15 this time lamentably worn and battered, and our weapons 
had become dull and rusty. The dress of the riders fully 
corresponded with the dilapidated furniture of our horses, 
and of the whole party none made a more disreputable ap- 
pearance than my friend and I. Shaw had for an upper 

20 garment an old red flannel shirt, flying open in front and 
belted around him like a frock; while 1, in absence of other 
clothing, was attired in a time-worn suit of leather. 

Thus, happy and careless as so many beggars, we crept 
slowly from day to day along the monotonous banks of 

25 the Arkansas. Tete Rouge gave constant trouble, for he 
could never catch his mule, saddle her, or indeed do any- 
thing else without assistance. Every day he had some 
new ailment, real or imaginary, to complain of. At one 
moment he would be woebegone and disconsolate, and 

30 the next he would be visited with a violent flow of spirits, 
to which he could only give vent by incessant laughing, 
278 



INDIAN ALARMS 279 

whistling, and telling stories. When other resources failed, 
we used to amuse ourselves by tormenting him; a fair 
compensation for the trouble he cost us. T^te Rouge 
rather enjoyed being laughed at, for he was an odd com- 
pound of weakness, eccentricity, and good-nature. He 5 
made a figure worthy of a painter as he paced along before 
us, perched on the back of his mule, and enveloped in a 
huge buffalo-robe coat, which some charitable person had 
given him at the fort. This extraordinary garment, which 
would have contained two men of his size, he chose, for 10 
some reason best known to himself, to wear inside out, 
and he never took it off, even in the hottest weather. It 
was fluttering all over with seams and tatters, and the hide 
was so old and rotten that it broke out every day in a new 
place. Just at the top of it a large pile of red curls was vis- 15 
ible, with his little cap set jauntily upon one side, to give him 
a military air. His seat in the saddle was no less remarkable 
than his person and equipment. He pressed one leg close 
against his mule's side, and thrust the other out at an angle 
of 45°. His pantaloons were decorated with a military 20 
red stripe, of which he was extremely vain; but being 
much too short, the whole length of his boots was usually 
visible below them. His blanket, loosely rolled up into a 
large bundle, dangled at the back of his saddle, where he 
carried it tied with a string. Four or five times a day it 25 
would fall to the ground. Every few minutes he would 
drop his pipe, his knife, his flint and steel, or a piece of to- 
bacco, and have to scramble down to pick them up. In 
doing this he would contrive to get in everybody's way; 
and as the most of the party were by no means remarkable 30 
for a fastidious choice of language, a storm of anathemas 
would be showered upon him, half in earnest and half in 
jest, until Tete Rouge would declare that there was no com- 
fort in Hfe, and that he never saw such fellows before. 

Only a day or two after leaving Bent's fort Henry Cha- 35 
tillon rode forward to hunt, and took Ellis along with him. 
After they had been some time absent we saw them coming 
down the hill, driving three dragoon-horses, which had es- 
caped from their owners on the march, or perhaps had given 
out and been abandoned. One of them was in tolerable 40 
condition, but the others were much emaciated and severely 



280 THE OREGON TRAIL 

bitten by the wolves. Reduced as they were we carried two 
of them to the settlements, and Henry exchanged the third 
with the Arapahoes for an excellent mule. 

On the day after, when we had stopped to rest at noon, 
5 a long train of Santa Fe wagons came up and trailed slowly 
past us in their picturesque procession. They belonged 
to a trader named Magoffin, whose brother, with a number 
of other men, came over and sat down around us on the grass. 
The news they brought was not of the most pleasing com- 

lo plexion. According to their accounts, the trail below was 
in a very dangerous state. They had repeatedy detected 
Indians prowling at night around their camps; and the 
large party which had left Bent's fort a few weeks previous 
to our own departure had been attacked , and a man named 

IS Swan, from Massachusetts, had been killed. His compan- 
ions had buried the body; but when Magoffin found his 
grave, which was near a place called the Caches, the Indians 
had dug up and scalped him, and the wolves had shockingly 
mangled his remains. As an offset to this intelligence, they 

20 gave us the welcome information that the buffalo were 
numerous at a few days' journey below. 

On the next afternoon, as we moved along the bank of 
tlie river, we saw the white tops of wagons on the horizon. 
It was some hours before we met them, when they proved 

25 to be a train of clumsy ox-wagons, quite different from the 
rakish vehicles of the Santa Fe traders, and loaded with 
government stores for the troops. They all stopped, and 
the drivers gathered around us in a crowd. I thought that 
the whole frontier might have been ransacked in vain to 

30 furnish men worse fitted to meet the dangers of the prairie. 
Many of them were mere boys, fresh from the plow, and 
devoid of knowledge and experience. In respect to the 
state of the trail, they confirmed all that the Santa Fe men 
had told us. In passing between the Pawnee fork and the 

35 Caches, their sentinels had fired eveiy night at real or 
imaginary Indians. They said also that Ewing, a young 
Kentuckian in the party that had gone down before us, had 
shot an Indian who was prowling at evening about the 
camp. Some of them advised us to turn back, and others 

40 to hasten forward as fast as we could; but they all seemed 
in such a state of feverish anxiety, and so little capable of 



INDIAN ALARMS 281 

cool jud,2;ment, that we attached slight weight to what they 
said. They next gave us a more definite piece of intelli- 
gence; a large village of Arapahoes was encamped on the 
river below. They represented them to be quite friendly; 
but some distinction was to be made between a party of 5 
thirty men, traveling with oxen, which are of no value in an 
Indian's eyes and a mere handful like ourselves, with a 
tempting band of mules and horses. This story of the 
Arapahoes therefore caused us some anxiety. 

Just after leaving the government wagons, as Shaw and lo 
I were riding along a narrow passage between the river 
bank and a rough hill that pressed close upon it, we heard 
Tete Rouge's voice behind us. "Hallo!" he called out; 
"I faj^ stop the cart just for a minute, will you?" 

"What's the matter, Tete?" asked Shaw, as he came 15 
riding up to us with a grin of exultation. He had a bottle 
of molasses in one hand, and a large bundle of hides on the 
saddle before him, containing, as he triumphantly informed 
us, sugar, biscuits, coffee, and rice. These supplies he had 
obtained by a stratagem on which he greatly plumed him- 20 
self, and he was extremely vexed and astonished that we 
did not fall in with his views of the matter. He had told 
Coates, the master-wagoner, that the commissary at the 
fort had given him an order for sick-rations directed to 
the master of any government train which he might meet 25 
upon the road. This order he had unfortunately lost, 
but he hoped that the rations would not be refused on that 
account, as he was suffering from coarse fare and needed 
them very much. As soon as he came to camp that night 
Tete Rouge repaired to the box at the back of the cart, 30 
where Deslauriers used to keep his culinary apparatus, 
took possession of a saucepan, and after building a little fire 
of his own, set to work preparing a meal out of his ill-gotten 
booty. This done, he seized on a tin plate and spoon, and 
sat down under the cart to regale himself. His preliminary 35 
repast did not at all prejudice his subsequent exertions at 
supper; where, in spite of his miniature dimensions, he made 
a better figure than any of us. Indeed, about this time his 
appetite grew quite voracious. He began to thrive wonder- 
fully. His small body visibly expanded, and his cheeks, 40 
which when we first took him were rather yellow and 



282 THE OREGON TRAIL 

cadaverous, now dilated in a wonderful manner, and became 
ruddy in proportion. Tete Rouge, in short, began to appear 
like another man. 

Early in the afternoon of the next day, looking along 
5 the edge of the horizon in front, we saw that at one point 
it was faintly marked with pale indentations, like the teeth 
of a saw. The lodges of the Arapahoes, rising between us 
and the sky, caused this singular appearance. It wanted 
still two or three hours of sunset when we came opposite 

lo their camp. There were full two hundred lodges standing 
in the midst of a grassy meadow at some distance beyond 
the river, while for a mile around and on either bank of the 
Arkansas were scattered some fifteen hundred horses and 
mules grazing together in bands, or wandering singly about 

15 the prairie. The whole were visible at once, for the vast 
expanse was unbroken by hills, and there was not a tree or 
a bush to intercept the view. 

Here and there walked an Indian, engaged in watching 
the horses. No sooner did we see them than Tete Rouge 

20 begged Deslauriers to stop the cart and hand him his little 
military jacket, which was stowed away there. In this 
he instantly invested himself, having for once laid the old 
buffalo coat aside, assumed a most martial posture in the 
saddle, set his cap over his left eye with an air of defiance, 

25 and earnestly entreated that somebody would lend him a 
gun or a pistol only for half an hour. Being called upon 
to explain these remarkable proceedings, Tete Rouge ob- 
served that he knew from experience what effect the pres- 
ence of a military man in his uniform always had upon 

30 the mind of an Indian, and he thought the Arapahoes 
ought to know that there was a soldier in the party. 

Meeting Arapahoes here on the Arkansas was a very 
different thing from meeting the same Indians among their 
native mountains. There was another circumstance in 

35 our favor. General Kearny had seen them a few weeks 
before, as he came up the river with his army, and renewing 
his threats of the previous year, he told them that if they 
ever again touched the hair of a white man's head he would 
exterminate their nation. This placed them for the time 

40 in an admirable frame of mind, and the effect of his menaces 
had not yet disappeared. I was anxious to see the village 



INDIAN ALARMS 283 

and its inhabitants. We thought it also our best policy 
to visit them openly, as if unsuspicious of any hostile design; 
and Shaw and I, with Henry Chatillon, prepared to cross 
the river. The rest of the party meanwhile moved forward 
as fast as they could, in order to get as far as possible from 5 
our suspicious neighbors before night came on. 

The Arkansas at this point, and for several hundred 
miles below, is nothing but a broad sand-bed, over which 
a few scanty threads of water are swiftly gliding, now and 
then expanding into wide shallows. At several places, 10 
during the autumn, the water sinks into the sand and dis- 
appears altogether. At this season, were it not for the 
numerous quicksands, the river might be forded almost 
anywhere without difficulty, though its channel is often a 
quarter of a mile wide. Our horses jumped down the bank, 15 
and wading through the water, or galloping freely over the 
hard sand-beds, soon reached the other side. Here, as we 
were pushing through the tall grass, we saw several Indians 
not far off; one of them waited until we came up, and stood 
for some moments in perfect silence before us, looking at 20 
us askance with his little snakelike eyes. Henry explained 
by signs what we wanted, and the Indian, gathering his 
buffalo robe about his shoulders, led the way toward the 
village without speaking a word. 

The language of the Arapahoes is so difficult, and its 25 
pronunciation so harsh and guttural, that no white man, 
it is said, has ever been able to master it. Even Maxwell 
the trader, ° who has been most among them, is compelled 
to resort to the curious sign language common to most of 
the prairie tribes. With this Henry Chatillon was per- 30 
fectly acquainted. 

Approaching the village, we found the ground all around 
it strewn with great piles of waste buffalo meat in incredible 
quantities. The lodges were pitched in a very wide circle. 
They resembled those of the Dahcotahs in everything 35 
but cleanliness and neatness. Passing between two of 
them, we entered the great circular area of the camp, and 
instantly hundreds of Indians, men, women, and children, 
came flocking out of their habitations to look at us; at the 
same time, the dogs all around the village set up a fearful 40 
baying. Our Indian guide walked toward the lodge of the 



284 THE OREGON TRAIL 

chief. Here we dismounted; and loosening the trail-ropes 
from our horses' necks, held them securely, and sat down 
before the entrance, with our rifles laid across our laps. 
The chief came out and shook us by the hand. He was a 
5 mean-looking fellow, very tall, thin-visaged, and sinewy, 
like the rest of the nation, and with scarcely a vestige of 
clothing. We had not been seated half a minute before 
a multitude of Indians came crowding around us from every 
part of the village, and we were shut in by a dense wall of 

lo savage faces. Some of the Indians crouched around us 
on the ground; others again eat behind them; others, 
stooping, looked over their heads; while many more stood 
crowded behind, stretching themselves upward, and peering 
over each other's shoulders, to get a view of us. I looked in 

15 vain among this multitude of faces to discover one manly 
or generous expression; all were wolfish, sinister, and malig- 
nant, and their complexions, as well as their features, unlike 
those of the Dahcotahs, were exceedingly bad. The chief, 
who sat close to the entrance, called to a squaw within the 

20 lodge, who soon came out and placed a wooden bowl of meat 
before us. To our surprise, however, no pipe was offered. 
Having tasted of the meat as a matter of form, I began to 
open a bundle of presents — tobacco, knives, vermilion, and 
other articles which I had brought with me. At this there 

;?5 was a grin on every countenance in the rapacious crowd; 
their eyes began to glitter, and long thin arms were eagerly 
stretched toward us on all sides to receive the gifts. 

The Arapahoes set great value upon their shields, which 
they transmit carefully from father to son. I wished to 

30 get one of them ; and displaying a large piece of scarlet 
cloth, together with some tobacco and a knife, I offered 
them to any one who would bring me what I wanted. After 
some delay a tolerable shield was produced. They were 
very anxious to know what we meant to do with it, and 

35 Henry told them that we were going to fight their enemies, 
the Pawnees. This instantly produced a visible impression 
in our favor, which was increased by the distribution of the 
presents. Among these was a large paper of awls, a gift 
appropriate to the women; and as we were anxious to see 

40 the beauties of the Arapahoe village Henry requested that 
they might be called to receive them, A warrior gave a 



INDIAN ALARMS 285 

shout as if he were calling a pack of dogs together. The 
squaws, young and old, hags of eighty and girls of sixteen, 
came running with screams and laughter out of the lodges; 
and as the men gave way for them they gathered round us 
and stretched out their arms, grinning with delight, their 5 
native ugliness considerably enhanced by the excitement of 
the moment. 

Mounting our horses, which during the whole interview 
we had held close to us, we prepared to leave the Ara- 
pahoes. The crowd fell back on each side and stood look- 10 
ing on. When we were half across the camp an idea oc- 
curred to us. The Pawnees were probably in the neigh- 
borhood of the Caches; we might tell the Arapahoes of 
this and instigate them to send down a war party and 
cut them off, while we ourselves could remain behind for 15 
a while and hunt the buffalo. At first thought this plan 
of setting our enemies to destroy one another seemed to 
us a masterpiece of policy ; but we immediately recollected 
that should we meet the Arapahoe warriors on the river 
below they might prove quite as dangerous as the Pawnees 20 
themselves. So rejecting our plan as soon as it presented 
itself, we passed out of the village on the farther side. We 
urged our horses rapidly through the tall grass which rose 
to their necks. Several Indians were walking through 
it at a distance, their heads just visible above its waving 25 
surface. It bore a kind of seed as sweet and nutritious 
as oats; and our hungry horses, in spite of whip and rein, 
could not resist the temptation of snatching at this un- 
wonted luxury as we passed along. When about a mile 
from the village I turned and looked back over the undu- 30 
lating ocean of grass. The sun was just set; the western 
sky was all in a glow, and sharply defined against it, on the 
extreme verge of the plain, stood the numerous lodges of 
the Arapahoe camp. 

Reaching the bank of the river, we followed it for some 35 
distance farther, until we discerned through the twilight 
the white covering of our little cart on the opposite bank. 
When we reached it we found a considerable number of 
Indians there before us. Four or five of them were seated 
in a row upon the ground, looking like so many half-starved 40 
vultures. Tete Rouge, in his uniform, was holding a close 



2S6 THE OREGON TRAIL 

colloquy with another by the side of the cart. His gesticu- 
lations, his attempts at sign-making, and the contortions 
of his countenance, were most ludicrous; and finding all 
these of no avail, he tried to make the Indian understand 
5 him by repeating English words very loudly and distinctly 
again and again. The Indian sat with his e^^e fixed steadily 
upon him, and in spite of the rigid immobility of his features, 
it was clear at a glance that he perfectly understood his 
military companion's character and thoroughly despised 

lo him. The exhibition was more amusing than politic, and 
Tete Rouge was directed to finish what he had to say as 
soon as possible. Thus rebuked, he crept under the cart 
and sat down there ; Henry Chatillon stooped to look at him 
in his retirement, and remarked in his quiet manner than an 

15 Indian would kill ten such men and laugh all the time. 

One by one our visitors rose and stalked away. As the 
darkness thickened we were saluted by dismal sounds. 
The wolves are incredibly numerous in this part of the 
country, and the offal around the Arapahoe camp had drawn 

20 such multitudes of them together that several hundreds 
were howling in concert in our immediate neighborhood. 
There was an island in the river, or rather an oasis in the 
midst of the sands at about the distance of a gunshot, 
and here they seemed gathered in the greatest numbers. 

25 A horrible discord of low mournful wailings, mingled with 
ferocious howls, arose from it incessantly for several hours 
after sunset. We could distinctly see the wolves running 
about the prairie within a few rods of our fire, or bounding 
over the sand-beds of the river and splashing through the 

30 water. There was not the slightest danger to be feared from 
them, for they are the greatest cowards on the prairie. 

In respect to the human wolves in our neighborhood, 
we felt much less at our ease. We seldom erected our 
tent except in bad weather, and that night each man spread 

35 his buffalo robe upon the ground with his loaded rifle laid 
at his side or clasped in his arms. Our horses were picketed 
so close around us that one of them repeatedly stepped over 
me as I lay. We were not in the habit of placing a guard, 
but every man that night was anxious and watchful; there 

40 was little sound sleeping in camp, and some one of the party 
was on his feet during the greater part of the time. For 



INDIAN ALARMS 28^ 



myself, I lay alternately waking and dozing until midnight. 
Tote Rouge was reposing close to the river bank, and about 
this time, when half asleep and half awake, I was conscious 
that he shifted his position and crept on all-fours under the 
cart. Soon after I fell into a sound sleep from which I was 5 
aroused by a hand shaking me by the shoulder. Looking 
up, I saw Tete Rouge stooping over me with his face quite 
pale and his eyes dilated to their utmost expansion. 

"What's the matter?" said I. 

Tete Rouge declared that as he lay on the river bank, 10 
ffomethin.v: '•aught his eye which excited his suspicions. 
So c"Zi-jiAg zander the cart for safety's sake he sat there 
and watched, when he saw two Indians, wrapped in white 
rctx.s creep up the bank, seize upon two horses and lead 
t'lem off. He looked so frightened, and told his story in 15 
such a disconnected manner, that I did not believe him, and 
was unwilling to alarm the party. Still it might be true, 
and in that case the matter required instant attention. 
There would be no time for examination, and so directing 
Tete Rouge to show me which way the Indians had gone, I 20 
took my rifle, in obedience to a thoughtless impulse, and 
left the camp. I followed the river back for two or three 
hundred, yards, listening and looking anxiously on every 
side. In the dark prairie on the right I could discern noth- 
ing to excite alarm : and in the dusky bed of the river, a 25 
wolf was bounding along in a manner which no Indian could 
imitate. I returned to the camp, and when within sight 
of it, saw that the whole party was aroused. Shaw called 
out to me tha .;. he had counted the horses, and that every 
one of them was in his place. Tete Rouge, being examined 30 
as to what he had seen, only repeated his former story with 
many asseverations, ° and insisted that two horses were 
certainly carried off. At this Jim Gurney declared that he 
was crazy; Tete Rouge indignantly denied the charge, on 
which Jim appealed to us. As we declined to give our judg- 35 
ment on so delicate a matter, the dispute grew hot between 
Tete Rouge and his accuser, until he w^as directed to go to 
bed and not alarm the camp again if he saw the whole 
Arapahoe village coming. 



CHAPTER XXIV 

THE CHASE 

The country before us was now thronged with buflFalo, 
and a sketch of the manner of hunting them will not be 
out of place. There are two methods commonly prac- 
ticed, "running" and "approaching." The chase on horse- 
5 back, which goes by the name of "running," is the more 
violent and dashing mode of the two. Indeed, of all Ameri- 
can wild sports, this is the wildest. Once among the 
buffalo, the hunter, unless long use has made him familiar 
with the situation, dashes forward in utter recklessness and 

lo self-abandonment. He thinks of nothing, cares for nothing 
but the game; his mind is stimulated to the highest pitch, 
yet intensely concentrated on one object. In the midst of 
the flying herd, where the uproar and the dust are thickest, 
it never wavers for a moment ; he drops the rein and aban- 

15 dons his horse to his furious career; he levels his gun, the 
report sounds faint amid the thunder of the buffalo; and 
when his wounded enemy leaps in vain fury upon him, his 
heart thrills with a feeling like the fierce delight of the 
battlefield. A practiced and skillful hunter, well mounted, 

20 will sometimes kill five or six cows in a single chase, loading 
his gun again and again as his horse rushes through the 
tumult. An exploit like this is quite beyond the capacities 
of a novice. In attacking a small band of buffalo, or in 
separating a single animal from the herd and assailing it 

25 apart from the rest, there is less excitement and less danger. 
With a bold and well trained horse the hunter may ride so 
close to the buffalo that as they gallop side by side he may 
reach over and touch him with his hand ; nor is there much 
danger in this as long as the buffalo's strength and breath 

30 continue unabated ; but when he becomes tired and can no 
longer run at ease, when his tongue lolls out and foam flies 

288 



THE CHASE 289 

from his jaws, then the hunter had better keep at a more 
respectful distance; the distressed brute may turn upon 
him at any instant; and especially at the moment when 
he fires his gun. The wounded bufifalo springs at his enemy; 
the horse leaps violently aside ; and then the hunter has 5 
need of a tenacious seat in the saddle, for if he is thrown 
to the ground there is no hope for him. When he sees his 
attack defeated the buffalo resumes his flight, but if the shot 
be well directed he soon stops ; for a few moments he stands 
still, then totters and falls heavily upon the prairie. lo 

The chief difficulty in running buffalo, as it seems to me, 
is that of loading the gun or pistol at full gallop. Many 
hunters for convenience' sake carry three or four bullets 
in the mouth ; the powder is poured down the muzzle of the 
piece, the bullet dropped in after it, the stock struck hard 15 
upon the pommel of the saddle, and the work is done. 
The danger of this method is obvious. Should the blow 
on the pommel fail to send the bullet home, or should the 
latter, in the act of aiming, start from its place and roll 
toward the muzzle, the gun would probably burst in dis- 20 
charging. Many a shattered hand and worse casualties 
besides have been the result of such an accident. To 
obviate it, some hunters make use of a ramrod, usually 
hung by a string from the neck, but this materially increases 
the difficulty of loading. The bows and arrows which the 25 
Indians use in running buffalo have many advantages over 
firearms, and even white men occasionally employ them. 

The danger of the chase arises not so much from the 
onset of the wounded animal as from the nature of the 
ground which the hunter must ride over. The prairie does 3c 
not always present a smooth, level, and uniform surface; 
very often it is broken with hills and hollows, intersected 
by ravines, and in the remoter parts studded by the stiff 
wild-sage bushes. The most formidable obstructions, 
however, are the burrows of wild animals, wolves, badgers 35 
and particularly prairie dogs, with whose holes the ground 
for a very great extent is frequently honey-combed. In the 
blindness of the chase the hunter rushes over it unconscious 
of danger; his horse, at full career, thrusts his leg deep into 
one of the burrows; the bone snaps, the rider is hurled 40 
forward to the ground and probably killed. Yet accidents 



290 THE OREGON TRAIL 

in buffalo running happen less frequently than one would 
suppose; in the recklessness of the chase, the hunter enjoys 
all the impunity of a drunken man, and may ride in safety 
over the gullies and declivities where, should he attempt 
5 to pass in his sober senses, he would infallibly break his 
neck. 

The method of "approaching," being practiced on foot, 
has many advantages over that of " running" ; in the former, 
one neither breaks down his horse nor endangers his own 

I o life; instead of yielding to excitement he must be cool, 
collected, and watchful; he must understand the buffalo, 
observe the features of the country and the course of the 
wind, and be well skilled, moreover, in using the rifle. 
The buffalo are strange animals; sometimes they are so 

15 stupid and infatuated that a man may walk up to them in 
full sight on the open prairie, and even shoot several of 
their number before the rest will think it necessary to retreat. 
Again at another moment they will be so shy and wary, 
that in order to approach them the utmost skill, experience, 

20 and judgment are necessary. Kit Carson, ° I believe, stands 
pre-eminent in running buffalo; in approaching, no man 
living can bear away the palm from Henry Chatillon. 

To resume the story : After Tete Rouge had alarmed the 
camp, no further disturbance occurred during the night. 

25 The Arapahoes did not attempt mischief, or if they did the 
wakefulness of the party deterred them from effecting their 
purpose. The next day was one of activity and excite- 
ment, for about ten o'clock the men in advance shouted 
the gladdening cry of "Buffalo, buffalo !" and in the hollow 

30 of the prairie just below us, a band of bulls were grazing. 
The temptation was irresistible, and Shaw and I rode down 
upon them. We were badly mounted on our traveling 
horses, but by hard lashing we overtook them, and Shaw 
running alongside of a bull, shot into him both balls of his 

35 double-barreled gun. Looking round as I galloped past, 
I saw the bull in his mortal fury rushing again and again 
upon his antagonist, whose horse constantly leaped aside, 
and avoided th3 onset. My chase was more protracted, 
but at length I ran close to the bull and killed him with my 

40 pistols. Cutting off the tails of our victims by way of 
trophy, we rejoined the party in about a quarter of an hour 



THE CHASE 291 



after we left it. Again and again that morning rang out 
the same welcome cry of ''Buffalo, buffalo!" Every few 
moments in the broad meadows along the river, we would 
see bands of bulls, who, raising their shaggy heads, would 
gaze in stupid amazement at the approaching horsemen, 5 
and then breaking into a clumsy gallop, would file off in 
a long line across the trail in front, toward the rising prairie 
on the left. At noon, the whole plain before us was alive 
with thousands of buffalo — bulls, cows, and calves — all 
moving rapidly as we drew near; and far-off beyond the 10 
river the swelling prairie was darkened with them to the very 
horizon. The party was in gayer spirits than ever. We 
stopped for a nooning near a grove of trees by the river-side. 
"Tongues and hump ribs to-morrow," said Shaw, look- 
ing with contempt at the venison steaks which Deslauriers 15 
placed before us. Our meal finished, we lay down under a 
temporary awning to sleep. A shout from Henry Chatillon 
aroused us, and we saw him standing on the cart-wheel 
stretching his tall figure to its full height while he looked 
toward the prairie beyond the river. Following the direc- 20 
tion of his eyes we could clearly distinguish a large dark 
object, like the black shadow of a cloud, passing rapidly 
over swell after swell of the distant plain ; behind it followed 
another of similar appearance though smaller. Its motion 
was more rapid, and it drew closer and closer to the first. 25 
It was the hunters of the Arapahoe camp pursuing a band of 
buffalo. Shaw and I hastily sought and saddled our best 
horses, and went plunging through sand and water to the 
farther bank. We were too late. The hunters had already 
mingled with the herd, and the work of slaughter was nearly 30 
over. When we reached the ground we found it strewn 
far and near with numberless black carcasses, while the 
remnants of the herd, scattered in all directions, were flying 
away in terror, and the Indians still rushing in pursuit. 
Many of the hunters, however, remained upon the spot, 35 
and among the rest was our yesterday's acquaintance, the 
chief of the village. He had alighted by the side of a cow, 
into which he had shot five or six arrows, and his squaw, 
who had followed him on horseback to the hunt, was giving 
him a draught of water out of a canteen, ° purchased or 40 
plundered from some volunteer soldier. Recrossing the 



292 THE OREGON TRAIL 

river we overtook the party, who were already on their 
way. 

We had scarcely gone a mile when an imposing spectacle 
presented itself. From the river bank on the right, away 
5 over the swelling prairie on the left, and in front as far as we 
could see, extended one vast host of buffalo. The out- 
skirts of the herd were within a quarter of a mile. In many 
parts they were crowded so densely together that in the dis- 
tance their rounded backs presented a surface of uniform 
lo blackness; but elsewhere they were more scattered, and 
from amid the multitude rose little columns of dust where 
the buffalo were rolling on the ground. Here and there a 
great confusion was perceptible, where a battle was going 
forward among the bulls. We could distinctly see them 
15 rushing against each other, and hear the clattering of their 
horns and their hoarse bellowing. Shaw was riding at some 
distance in advance, with Henry Chatillon; I saw him stop 
and draw the leather covering from his gun. Indeed, with 
such a sight before us, but one thing could be thought of. 
20 That morning I had used pistols in the chase. I had now 
a mind to try the virtue of a gun. Deslauriers had one, 
and I rode up to the side of the cart, where he sat under the 
white covering, biting his pipe between his teeth and grin- 
ning with excitement. 
25 "Lend me your gun, Deslauriers," said I. 

''Old, monsieur, oui,^^ said Deslauriers, tugging with might 

and main to stop the mule, which seemed obstinately bent 

on going forward. Then everything but his moccasins 

disappeared as he crawled into the cart and pulled at the 

30 gun to extricate it. 

" Is it loaded ?" I asked. 

''Out, Men charge; you'll kill, mon bourgeois; yes, you'll 
kill — c'est un bon fusil °" 

I handed him my rifle and rode forward to Shaw. 
35 " Are you ready ?" he asked. 

"Come on," said I. 

"Keep down that hollow," said Henry, "and then they 
won't see you till you get close to them." 

The hollow was a kind of ravine very wide and shallow; 

40 it ran obliquely toward the buffalo, and we rode at a canter 

along the bottom until it became too shallow, when we bent 



THE CHASE 293 

close to our horses' necks, and then finding that it could no 
longer conceal us, came out of it and rode directly toward the 
herd. It was within gunshot; before its outskirts, numer- 
ous grizzly old bulls were scattered, holding guard over their 
females. They glared at us in anger and astonishment, 5 
walked toward us a few yards, and then turning slowly 
round retreated at a trot which afterward broke into a 
clumsy gallop. In an instant the main body caught the 
alarm. The buffalo began to crowd away from the point 
toward which we were approachirjg, and a gap was opened in 10 
the side of the herd. We entered it, still restraining our 
excited horses. Every instant the tumult was thickening. 
The buffalo, pressing together in large bodies, crowded away 
from us on every hand. In front and on either side we could 
see dark columns and masses, half hidden by clouds of dust, 15 
rushing along in terror and confusion, and hear the tramp 
and clattering of ten thousand hoofs. That countless mul- 
titude of powerful brutes, ignorant of their own strength, 
were flying in a panic from the approach of two feeble horse- 
men. To remain quiet longer was impossible. 20 

" Take that band on the left," said Shaw; " I'll take these 
in frojit." 

He sprang off, and I saw no more of him. A heavy 
Indian whip was fastened by a band to my wrist; I swung 
it into the air and lashed my horse's flank with all the 25 
strength of my arm. Away she darted, stretching clo'se to 
the ground. I could see nothing but a cloud of dust before 
me, but I knew that it concealed a band of many hundreds 
of buffalo. In a moment I was in the midst of the cloud, 
half suffocated by the dust and stunned by the trampling 30 
of the flying herd ; but I was drunk vnih. the chase and cared 
for nothing but the buffalo. Very soon a long dark mass 
became visible, looming through the dust; then I could 
distinguish each bulky carcass, the hoofs flying out beneath, 
the short tails held rigidly erect. In a moment I was so 35 
close that I could have touched them with my gun. Sud- 
denly, to my utter amazement, the hoofs were jerked up- 
ward, the tails flourished in the air, and amid a cloud of dust 
the buffalo seemed to sink into the earth before me. One 
vivid impression of that instant remains upon my mind. 40 
I remember looking down upon the backs of several buffalo 



294 THE OREGON TRAIL 



dimly visible through the dust. We had run unawares 
upon a ravine. At that moment I was not the most ac- 
curate judge of depth and width, but when I passed it on my 
return, I found it about twelve feet deep and not quite twice 
5 as wide at the bottom. It was impossible to stop; I would 
have done so gladly if I could; so, half sliding, half plung- 
ing, down went the little mare. I believe she came down 
on her knees in the loose sand at the bottom ; I was pitched 
forward violently against her neck and nearly thrown over 

lo her head among the buffalo, who amid dust and confusion 
came tumbling in all around. The mare was on her feet 
in an instant and scrambling like a cat up the opposite side. 
I thought for a moment that she would have fallen back and 
crushed me, but with a violent effort she clambered out and 

15 gained the hard prairie above. Glancing back I saw the 
huge head of a bull clinging as it were by the forefeet at the 
edge of the dusty gulf. At length I was fairly among the 
buffalo. They were less densely crowded than before, and 
I could see nothing but bulls, who always run at the rear of 

20 the herd. As I passed amid them they would lower their 
heads, and turning as they ran, attempt to gore my horse; 
but as they were already at full speed there was no force 
in their onset, and as Pauline ran faster than they, they 
were always thrown behind her in the effort. I soon began 

25 to distinguish cows amid the throng. One just in front of 
me seemed to my liking, and I pushed close to her side. 
Dropping the reins I fired, holding the muzzle of the gun 
within a foot of her shoulder. Quick as lightning she sprang 
at Pauline; the little mare dodged the attack, and I lost 

30 sight of the wounded animal amid the tumultuous crowd. 
Immediately after I selected another, and urging forward 
Pauline, shot into her both pistols in succession. For a 
while I kept her in view, but in attempting to load my 
gun, lost sight of her also in the confusion. Believing her 

35 to be mortally wounded and unable to keep up with the herd, 
I checked my horse. The crowd rushed onward. The 
dust and tumult passed away, and on the prairie, far behind 
the rest, I saw a solitary buffalo galloping heavily. In a 
moment I and my victim were running side by side. My 

40 firearms were all empty, and I had in my pouch nothing but 
rifle bullets, too large for the pistols and too small for the 



THE CHASE 295 

gun. I loaded the latter, however, but as often as I leveled 
it to fire, the little bullets would roll out of the muzzle and 
the gun returned only a faint report like a squib, as the 
powder harmlessly exploded. I galloped in front of the 
buffalo and attempted to turn her back ; but her eyes glared, 5 
her mane bristled, and lowering her head, she rushed at me 
with astonishing fierceness and activity. Again and again 
I rode before her, and again and again she repeated her 
furious charge. But little Pauline was in her element. 
She dodged her enemy at every rush, until at length the 10 
buffalo stood still, exhausted with her own efforts; she 
panted, and her tongue hung lolling from her jaws. 

Riding to a little distance I alighted, thinking to gather 
a handful of dry grass to serve the purpose of wadding, 
and load the gun at my leisure. No sooner were my feet 15 
on the ground than the buffalo came bounding in such a 
rage toward me that I jumped back again into the saddle 
with all possible dispatch. After waiting a few minutes 
more, I made an attempt to ride up and stab her with my 
knife; but the experiment proved such as no wise man 20 
would repeat. At length, bethinking me of the fringes at 
the s.eams of my buckskin pantaloons, I jerked off a few of 
them, and reloading the gun, forced them down the barrel 
to keep the bullet in its place ; then approaching, I shot the 
wounded buffalo through the heart. Sinking to her knees, 25 
she rolled over lifeless on the prairie. To my astonish- 
ment, I found that instead of a fat cow I had been slaughter- 
ing a stout yearling bull. No longer wondering at the 
fierceness he had shown, I opened his throat and cutting out 
his tongue, tied it at the back of my saddle. My mistake 30 
was one which a more experienced eye than mine might 
easily make in the dust and confusion of such a chase. 

Then for the first time I had leisure to look at the scene 
around me. The prairie in front was darkened with the 
retreating multitude, and on the other hand the buffalo 35 
came filing up in endless unbroken columns from the low 
plains upon the river. The Arkansas was three or four 
miles distant. I turned and moved slowly toward it. A 
long time passed before, far down in the distance, I dis- 
tinguished the white covering of the cart and the little black 40 
specks of horsemen before and behind it. Drawing near, 



296 THE OREGON TRAIL 



I recognized Shaw's elegant tunic, the red flannel shirt, 
conspicuous far off. I overtook the party, and asked him 
what success he had met with. He had assailed a fat cow, 
shot her with two bullets, and mortally wounded her. 
5 But neither of us were prepared for the chase that afternoon, 
and Shaw, like myself, had no spare bullets in his pouch; 
so he abandoned the disabled animal to Henry Chatillon, 
who followed, dispatched her with his rifle, and loaded his 
horse with her meat, 
lo We encamped close to the river. The night was dark, 
and as we lay down we could hear mingled with the howl- 
ings of wolves the hoarse bellowing of the buffalo, like the 
ocean beating upon a distant coast. 



CHAPTER XXV 

THE BUFFALO CAMP 

No one in the camp was more active than Jim Gurney, 
and no one half so lazy as Ellis. Between these two there 
was a great antipathy. Ellis never stirred in the morning 
until he was compelled to, but Jim was always on his feet 
before daybreak ; and this morning as usual the sound of 5 
his voice awakened the party. 

" Get up, you booby ! up with you now, you're fit for 
nothing but eating and sleeping. Stop your grumbling 
and come out of that buffalo robe or I'll pull it off for you." 

Jim's words were interspersed with numerous expletives, 10 
which gave them great additional effect. Ellis drawled 
out something in a nasal tone from among the folds of his 
buffalo robe; then slowly disengaged himself, rose into sitting 
posture, stretched his long arms, yawned hideously, and 
finally, raising his tall person erect, stood staring round him 15 
to all the four quarters of the horizon. Deslauriers' fire 
was soon blazing, and the horses and mules, loosened from 
their pickets, were feeding in the neighboring meadow. 
When we sat down to breakfast the prairie was still in the 
dusky light of morning; and as the sun rose we were 20 
mounted and on our way again. 

"A white buffalo !" exclaimed Munroe. 

"I'll have that fellow," said Shaw, "if I run my horse 
to death after him." 

He threw the cover of his gun to Deslauriers and galloped 25 
out upon the prairie. 

"Stop, Mr. Shaw, stop!" called out Henry Chatillon, 
"you'll run down your horse for nothing; it's only a white 
ox." 

But Shaw was already out of hearing. The ox, who had 30 
no doubt strayed away from some of the government wagon 
trains, was standing beneath some low hills which bounded 
the plain in the distance. Not far from him a band of veri- 

297 



298 THE OREGON TRAIL 

table buffalo bulls were grazing; and startled at Shaw's 
approach, they all broke into a run, and went scrambling 
up the hillsides to gain the high prairie above. One of them 
in his haste and terror involved himself in a fatal catastrophe. 
5 Along the foot of the hills was a narrow strip of deep marshy- 
soil, into which the bull plunged and hopelessly entangled 
himself. We all rode up to the spot. The huge brute was 
half sunk in the mud, which flowed to his very chin, and his 
shaggy mane was outspread upon the surface. As we came 

lo near the bull began to struggle with convulsive strength ; 
he writhed to and fro, and in the energy of his fright and 
desperation would lift himself for a moment half out of the 
slough, while the reluctant mire returned a sucking sound 
as he strained to drag his limbs from its tenacious depths. 

15 We stimulated his exertions by getting behind him and 
twisting his tail; nothing would do. There was clearly 
no hope for him. After every effort his heaving sides were 
more deeply imbedded and the mire almost overflowed his 
nostrils; he lay still at length, and looking round at us with 

20 a furious eye, seemed to resign himself to his fate. Ellis 
slowly dismounted, and deliberately leveling his boasted 
yager, shot the old bull through the heart; then he lazily 
climbed back again to his seat, pluming himself no doubt 
on having actually killed a buffalo. That day the invincible 

25 yager drew blood for the first and last time during the whole 
journey. 

The morning was a bright and gay one, and the air so 
clear that on the farthest horizon the outline of the pale 
blue prairie was sharply drawn against the sky. Shaw 

30 felt in the mood for hunting; he rode in advance of the 
party, and before long we saw a file of bulls galloping at 
full speed upon a vast green swell of the prairie at some 
distance in front. Shaw came scouring along behind 
them, arrayed in his red shirt, which looked very well in 

35 the distance; he gained fast on the fugitives, and as the 
foremost bull was disappearing behind the summit of 
the swell, we saw him in the act of assailing the hindmost ; 
a smoke sprang from the muzzle of his gun, and floated 
away before the wind like a little white cloud ; the bull 

40 turned upon him, and just then the rising ground concealed 
them both from view. 



THE BUFFALO CAMP 299 

We were moving forward until about noon, when we 
stopped by the side of the Arkansas. At that moment 
Shaw appeared riding slowly down the side of a distant 
hill; his horse was tired and jaded, and when he threw 
his saddle upon the ground, I observed that the tails of 5 
two bulls were dangling behind it. No sooner were the 
horses turned loose to feed than Henry, asking Munroe 
to go with him, took his rifle and walked quietly away. 
Shaw, Tete Rouge, and I sat down by the side of the cart 
to discuss the dinner which Deslauriers placed before us; we 10 
had scarcely finished when we saw Munroe walking toward 
us along the river bank. Henry, he said, had killed four 
fat cows, and had sent him back for horses to bring in the 
meat. Shaw took a horse for himself and another for Henry, 
and he and Munroe left the camp together. After a short 15 
absence all three of them came back, their horses loaded 
with the choicest parts of the meat; we kept two of the 
cows for ourselves and gave the others to Munroe and his 
companions. Deslauriers seated himself on the grass before 
the pile of meat, and worked industriously for some time 20 
to cut it into thin broad sheets for drying. This is no easy 
matter, but Deslauriers had all the skill of an Indian squaw. 
Long before night cords of raw hide were stretched around 
the camp, and the meat was hung upon them to dry in the 
sunshine and pure air of the prairie. Our California com- 25 
panions were less successful at the work; but they ac- 
complished it after their own fashion, and their side of the 
camp was soon garnished in the same manner as our own. 

We meant to remain at this place long enough to prepare 
provisions for our journey to the frontier, which as we sup- 30 
posed might occupy about a month. Had the distance 
been twice as great and the party ten times as large, the 
unerring rifle of Henry Chatillon would have supplied 
meat enough for the whole within two days; we were 
obliged to remain, however, until it should be dry enough 35 
for transportation; so we erected our tent and made the 
other arrangements for a permanent camp. The California 
men, who had no such shelter, contented themselves with 
arranging their packs on the grass around their fire. In the 
meantime we had nothing to do but amuse ourselves. Our 40 
tent was within a rod of the river, if the broad sand-beds, 



300 THE OREGON TRAIL 



with a scanty stream of water coursing here and there along 
their surface, deserve to be dignified with the name of river. 
The vast flat plains on either side were almost on a level with 
the sand-beds, and they were bounded in the distance by 
5 low, monotonous hills, parallel to the course of the Arkansas. 
All was one expanse of grass; there was no wood in view, 
except some trees and stunted bushes upon two islands 
which rose from amid the wet sands of the river. Yet far 
from being dull and tame this boundless scene was often a 

lowild and animated one; for twice a day, at sunrise and at 
noon, the buffalo came issuing from the hills, slowly ad- 
vancing in their grave processions to drink at the river. 
All our amusements were to be at their expense. Except an 
elephant, I have seen no animal that can surpass a buffalo 

15 bull in size and strength, and the world may be searched 
in vain to find anything of a more ugly and ferocious aspect. 
At first sight of him every feeling of sympathy vanishes; 
no man who has not experienced it can understand with 
what keen relish one inflicts his death wound, with what 

20 profound contentment of mind he beholds him fall. The 
cows are much smaller and of a gentler appearance, as be- 
comes their sex. While in this camp we forebore to attack 
them, leaving to Henry Chatillon, who could better judge 
their fatness and good quality, the task of killing such as 

25 we wanted for use; but against the bulls we waged an un- 
relenting war. Thousands of them might be slaughtered 
without causing any detriment to the species, for their 
numbers greatly exceed those of the cows; it is the hides 
of the latter alone which are used for the purpose of com- 

30 merce and for making the lodges of the Indians ; and the 
destruction among them is therefore altogether dispropor- 
tioned. 

Our horses were tired, and we now usually hunted on 
foot. The wide flat sand-beds of the Arkansas, as the 

35 reader will remember, lay close by the side of our camp. 
While we were lying on the grass after dinner, smoking, 
conversing, or laughing at Tete Rouge, one of us would 
look up and observe, far out on the plains beyond the river, 
certain black objects slowly approaching. He would in- 

40 hale a parting whiff from the pipe, then rising lazily, take 
his rifle, which leaned against the cart, throw over his 



THE BUFFALO CAMP 301 



shoulder the strap of his pouch and powder-horn, and with 
his moccasins in his hand walk quietly across the sand 
toward the opposite side of the river. This was very easy; 
for though the sands were about a quarter of a mile wide, 
the water was nowhere mor« than two feet deep. The 5 
farther bank was about four or five feet high, and quite 
perpendicular, being cut away by the water in spring. 
Tall grass grew along its edge. Putting it aside with his 
hand, and cautiously looking through it, the hunter can 
discern the huge shaggy back of the buffalo slowly swaying lo 
to and fro, as with his clumsy swinging gait he advances 
toward the water. The buffalo have regular paths by which 
they come down to drink. Seeing at a glance along which of 
these his intended victim is moving, the hunter crouches under 
the bank within fifteen or twenty yards, it may be, of the 15 
point where the path enters the river. Here he sits down 
quietly on the sand. Listening intently, he hears the heavy 
monotonous tread of the approaching bull. The moment 
after he sees a motion among the long weeds and grass Just 
at the spot where the path is channelled through the bank. 20 
An enormous black head is thrust out, the horns just visible 
amid ,the mass of tangled mane. Half sliding, half plunging, 
down comes the buffalo upon the river-bed below. He 
steps out in full sight upon the sands. Just before him a 
runnel° of water is gliding, and he bends his head to drink. 25 
You may hear the water as it gurgles down his capacious 
throat. He raises his head, and the drops trickle from his 
wet beard. He stands with an air of stupid abstraction, 
unconscious of the lurking danger. Noiselessly the hunter 
cocks his rifle. As he sits upon the sand, his knee is raised, 30 
and his elbow rests upon it, that he may level his heavy 
weapon with a steadier aim. The stock is at his shoulder; 
his eye ranges along the barrel. Still he is in no haste to 
fire. The bull, with slow deliberation, begins his march 
over the sands to the other side. He advances his fore-leg, 35 
and exposes to view a small spot, denuded of hair, just 
behind the point of his shoulder; upon this the hunter 
brings the sight of his rifle to bear; lightly and delicately 
his finger presses upon the hair-trigger. Quick as thought 
the spiteful crack of the rifle responds to his slight touch, 40 
and instantly in the middle of the bare spot appears a small 



302 THE OREGON TRAIL 

red dot. The buffalo shivers; death has overtaken him, 
he cannot tell from whence; still he does not fall, but walks 
heavily forward, as if nothing had happened. Yet before 
he has advanced far out upon the sand, you see him stop; 
she totters; his knees bend under him, and his head sinks 
forward to the ground. Then his whole vast bulk sways 
to one side; he rolls over on the sand, and dies with a 
scarcely perceptible struggle. 

Waylaying the buffalo in this manner, and shooting them 

lo as they come to water, is the easiest and laziest method of 
hunting them. They may also be approached by crawling 
up ravines, or behind hills, or even over the open prairie. 
This is often surprisingly easy; but at other times it requires 
the utmost skill of the most experienced hunter. Henry 

15 Chatillon was a man of extraordinary strength and hardi- 
hood ; but I have seen him return to camp quite exhausted 
with his efforts, his limbs scratched and wounded, and his 
buckskin dress stuck full of the thorns of the prickly-pear 
among which he had been crawling. Sometimes he would 

20 lie flat upon his face, and drag himself along in this position 
for many rods together. 

On the second day of our stay at this place, Henry went 
out for an afternoon hunt. Shaw and I remained in camp 
until, observing some bulls approaching the water upon 

25 the other side of the river, we crossed over to attack them. 
They were so near, however, that before we could get under 
cover of the bank our appearance as we walked over the 
sands alarmed them. Turning round before coming within 
gunshot, they began to move off to the right in a direction 

30 parallel to the river. I climbed up the bank and ran after 
them. They were walking swiftly, and before I could come 
within gunshot distance they slowly wheeled about and 
faced toward me. Before they had turned far enough to 
see me I had fallen flat on my face. For a moment they 

35 stood and stared at the strange object upon the grass; 
then turning away, again they v/alked on as before; and I, 
rising immediately, ran once more in pursuit. Again they 
wheeled about, and again I fell prostrate. Repeating this 
three or four times, I came at length within a hundred yards 

40 of the fugitives, and as I saw them turning again I sat down 
and leveled my rifle. The one in the center was the largest 



THE BUFFALO CAMP 303 



I had ever seen. I shot him behind the shoulder. His two 
companions ran off. He attempted to follow, but soon 
came to a stand, and at length lay down as quietly as an ox 
chewing the cud. Cautiously approaching him, I saw by 
his dull and jellylike eye that he was dead. 5 

When I began the chase, the prairie was almost tenant- 
less ; but a great multitude of buffalo had suddenly thronged 
upon it, and looking up, I saw within fifty rods a heavy, 
dark column stretching to the right and left as far as I 
could see. I walked toward them. My approach did not lo 
alarm them in the least. The column itself consisted en- 
tirely of cows and calves, but a great many old bulls were 
ranging about the prairie on its flank, and as I drew near 
they faced toward me with such a shaggy and ferocious 
look that I thought it best to proceed no farther. Indeed 15 
I was already within close rifle-shot bi the column, and I 
sat down on the ground to watch their movements. Some- 
times the whole would stand still, their heads all facing one 
way; then they would trot forward, as if by a common im- 
pulse, their hoofs and horns clattering together as they 20 
moved. I soon began to hear at a distance on the left the 
short 'reports of a rifle, again and again repeated; and not 
long after, dull and heavy sounds succeeded, which I recog- 
nized as the familiar voice of Shaw's double-barreled gun. 
When Henry's rifle was at work there was always meat to 25 
be brought in. I went back across the river for a horse, 
and returning, reached the spot where the hunters were 
standing. The buffalo were visible on the distant prairie. 
The hving had retreated from the ground, but ten or twelve 
carcasses were scattered in various directions. Henry, 30 
knife in hand, was stooping over a dead cow, cutting away 
the best and fattest of the meat. 

When Shaw left me he had walked down for some dis- 
tance under the river bank to find another bull. At length 
he saw the plains covered with the host of buffalo, and soon 35 
after heard the crack of Henry's rifle. Ascending the 
bank, he crawled through the grass, which for a rod or two 
from the river was very high and rank. He had not crawled 
far before to his astonishment he saw Henry standing erect 
upon the prairie, almost surrounded by the buffalo. Henry 40 
was in his appropriate element. Nelson,° on the deck of the 



304 THE OREGON TRAIL 

Victory, hardly felt a prouder sense of mastery than he. 
Quite unconscious that any one was looking at him, he 
stood at the full height of his tall, strong figure, one hand 
resting upon his side, and the other arm leaning carelessly 

5 on the muzzle of his rifle. His eyes were ranging over the 
singular assemblage around him. Now and then he would 
select such a cow as suited him, level his rifle, and shoot 
her dead; then quietly reloading, he would resume his for- 
mer position. The buffalo seemed no more to regard 

lo his presence than if he were one of themselves; the bulls 
were bellowing and butting at each other, or else rolling 
about in the dust. A group of buffalo would gather about 
the carcass of a dead cow, snuffing at her wounds; and 
sometimes they would come behind those that had not yet 

15 fallen, and endeavor to push them from the spot. Now 
and then some old bull would face toward Henry with an air 
of stupid amazement, but none seemed inclined to attack 
or fly from him. For some time Shaw lay among the grass, 
looking in surprise at this extraordinary sight; at length 

20 he crawled cautiously forward, and spoke in a low voice to 
Henry, who told him to rise and come on. Still the buffalo 
showed no sign of fear; they remained gathered about their 
dead companions. Henry had already killed as many cov/s 
as we wanted for use, and Shaw, kneeling behind one of the 

25 carcasses, shot five bulls before the rest thought it neces.^ary 
to disperse. 

The frequent stupidity and infatuation of the buffalo 
seems the more remarkable from the contrast it offers to 
their wildness and wariness at other times. Henry knew 

30 all their peculiarities ; he had studied them as a scholar 
studies his books, and he derived quite as much pleasure 
from the occupation. The buffalo were a kind of compan- 
ions to him, and, as he said, he never felt alone when they 
were about him. He took great pride in his skill in hunt- 

35 ing. Henry was one of the most modest of men; yet, in the 
simplicity and frankness of his character, it was quite clear 
that he looked upon his pre-eminence in this respect as a 
thing too palpable and well established ever to be disputed. 
But whatever may have been his estimate of his own skill, it 

40 was rather below than above that which others placed upon 
it. The only time that I ever saw a shade of scorn darken 



THE BUFFALO CAMP 305 

his face was when two voKinteer soldiers, who had just 
killed a buffalo for the first time, undertook to instruct him 
as to the best method of ''approaching." To borrow an 
illustration from an opposite side of life, an Eton°boy might 
as well have sought to enlighten Porson° on the formation 5 
of a Greek verb, or a Fleet street shopkeeper to instruct 
Chesterfield ° concerning a point of etiquette. Henry al- 
ways seemed to think that he had a sort of prescriptive 
right to the buffalo, and to look upon them as something 
belonging peculiarly to himself. Nothing excited his in- 10 
dignation so much as any wanton destruction committed 
among the cows, and in his view shooting a calf was a car- 
dinal sin. 

Henry Chatillon and T^te Rouge were of the same age; 
that is, about thirty. Henry was twice as large, and fully 15 
six times as strong as Tete Rouge. Henry's face was 
roughened by winds and storms; Tete Rouge's was bloated 
by sherry cobblers° and brandy toddy. ° Henry talked of 
Indians and buffalo; Tete Rouge of theaters and oyster 
cellars. Henry had led a life of hardship and privation ; 20 
Tete Rouge never had a whim which he would not gratify 
at the first moment he was able. Henry moreover was the 
most disinterested man I ever saw; while Tete Rouge, 
though equally good-natured in his way, cared for nobody 
but himself. Yet we would not have lost him on any ac- 25 
count; he admirably served the purpose of a jester in a 
feudal castle; our camp would have been lifeless without 
him. For the past week he had fattened in a most amazing 
manner; and indeed this was not at all surprising, since 
his appetite was most inordinate. He was eating from 30 
morning till night; half the time he would be at work cook- 
ing some private repast for himself, and he paid a visit to 
the coffee-pot eight or ten times a day. His rueful and 
disconsolate face became jovial and rubicund, his eyes 
stood out like a lobster's, and his spirits, which before 35 
were sunk to the depths of despondency, were now elated 
in proportion; all day he was singing, whistling, laughing, 
and telling stories. Being mortally afraid of Jim Gurney, 
he kept close in the neighborhood of our tent. As he had 
seen an abundance of low dissipated life, and had a con- 40 
siderable fund of humor, his anecdotes were extremely 



306 THE OREGON TRAIL 

amusing, especially since he never hesitated to place him- 
self in a ludicrous point of view, provided he could raise a 
laugh by doing so. Tete Rouge, however, was sometimes 
rather troublesome; he had an inveterate habit of pilfering 
5 provisions at all times of the day. He set ridicule at utter 
defiance; and being without a particle of self-respect, he 
would never have given over his tricks, even if they had 
drawn upon him the scorn of the whole party. Now and 
then, indeed, something worse than laughter fell to his 

lo share; on these occasions he would exhibit much contrition, 
but half an hour after we would generally observe him steal- 
ing round to the box at the back of the cart and slyly mak- 
ing off with the provisions which Deslauriers had laid by 
for supper. He was very fond of smoking; but having no 

IS tobacco of his own, we used to provide him with as much 
as he wanted, a small piece at a time. At first we gave 
him half a pound together, but this experiment proved an 
entire failure, for he invariably lost not only the tobacco, 
but the knife intrusted to him for cutting it, and a few 

20 minutes after he would come to us with many apologies 
and beg for more. 

We had been two days at this camp, and some of the 
meat was nearly fit for transportation, when a storm came 
suddenly upon us. About sunset the whole sky grew as 

25 black as ink, and the long grass at the river's edge bent 
and rose mournfully with the first gusts of the approaching 
hurricane. Munroe and his two companions brought their 
guns and placed the n under cover of our tent. Having 
no^ shelter for the iiselves, they built a fire of driftwood that 

30 might have defied a cataract, and wrapped in their buffalo 
robes, sat on the ground around it to bide the fury of the 
storm. Deslauriers ensconced ° himself under the cover 
of the cart. Shaw and I, together with Henry and Tete 
Rouge, crowded into the little tent; but first of all the 

35 dried meat was piled together, and well protected by buffalo 
robes pinned firmly to the ground. About nine o'clock the 
storm broke, amid absolute darkness ; it blew a gale, and 
torrents of rain roared over the boundless expanse of open 
prairie. Our tent was filled with mist and spray beating 

40 through the canvas, and saturating everything within. We 
could only distinguish each other at short intervals by the 



THE BUFFALO CAMP 307 

dazzling flash of lightning, which displayed the whole waste 
around us with its momentary glare. We had our fears 
for the tent; but for an hour or two it stood fast, until at 
length the cap gave way before a furious blast; the pole 
tore through the top, and in an instant we were half suffo- 5 
cated by the cold and dripping folds of the canvas, which 
fell down upon us. Seizing upon our guns, we placed them 
erect, in order to lift the saturated cloth above our heads. 
In this agreeable situation, involved among wet blankets 
and buffalo robes, we spent several hours of the night during 10 
which the storm would not abate for a moment, but pelted 
down above our heads with merciless fury. Before long 
the ground beneath us became soaked with moisture, and 
the water gathered there in a pool two or three inches deep; 
so that for a considerable part of the night we were partially 15 
immersed in a cold bath. In spite of all this, Tete Rouge's 
flow of spirits did not desert him for an instant; he laughed, 
whistled, and sung in defiance of the storm, and that night 
he paid off the long arrears of ridicule which he owed us. 
While we lay in silence, enduring the infliction with what 20 
philosophy we could muster, Tete Rouge, who was intoxi- 
cated with animal spirits, was cracking jokes at our expense 
by the hour together. At about three o'clock in the morn- 
ing, "preferring the tyranny of the open night" to such a 
wretched shelter, we crawled out from beneath the fallen 25 
canvas. The wind had abated, but the rain fell steadily. 
The fire of the California men still blazed amid the darkness, 
and we joined them as they sat around it. We made ready 
some hot coffee by way of refreshment; but when some of 
the party sought to replenish their cups, it was found that 30 
Tete Rouge, having disposed of his own share, had privately 
abstracted the coffee-pot and drank up the rest of the con- 
tents out of the spout. 

In the morning, to our great joy, an unclouded sun rose 
upon the prairie. We presented rather a laughable ap- 35 
pearance, for the cold and clammy buckskin, saturated 
with water, clung fast to our limbs; the light wind and 
warm sunshine soon dried them again, and then we were 
all incased in armor of intolerable rigidity. Roaming all 
day over the prairie and shooting two or three bulls, were 40 
scarcely enough to restore the stiffened leather to its usual 
pliancy. 



308 THE OREGON TRAIL 

Besides Henry Chatillon, Shaw and I were the only hunters 
in the party. Munroe this morning made an attempt to 
run a buffalo, but his horse could not come up to the game. 
Shaw went out with him, and being better mounted soon 
5 found himself in the midst of the herd. Seeing nothing 
but cows and calves around him, he checked his horse. An 
old bull came galloping on the open prairie at some distance 
behind, and turning, Shaw rode across his path, leveHng 
his gun as he passed, and shooting him through the shoulder 

lo into the heart. The heavy bullets of Shaw's double-bar- 
reled gun made wild work wherever they struck. 

A great flock of buzzards were usualh^ soaring about a 
few trees that stood on the island just below our camp. 
Throughout the whole of yesterday we had noticed an eagle 

15 among them; to-day he was still there; and Tete Rouge, 
declaring that he would kill the bird of America, borrowed 
Deslauriers' gun and set out on his unpatriotic mission. 
As might have been expected, the eagle suffered no great 
harm at his hands. He soon returned, saying that he could 

20 not find hitn, but had shot a buzzard instead. Being re- 
quired to produce the bird in proof of his assertion he said 
he believed that he was not quite dead, but he must be hurt, 
from the swiftness with which he flew off. 

"If you want," said Tete Rouge, "I'll go and get one of 

25 his feathers; I knocked off plenty of them when I shot him." 

Just opposite our camp was another island covered with 

bushes, and behind it was a deep pool of water, while two 

or three considerable streams coursed over the sand not 

far off. I was bathing at this place in the afternoon when 

30 a white wolf, larger than the largest Newfoundland dog, 
ran out from behind the point of the island, and galloped 
leisurely over the sand not half a stone's throw distant. I 
could plainly see his red eyes and the bristles about his 
snout; he was an ugly scoundrel, with a bushy tail, large 

35 head, and a most repulsive countenance. Having neither 
rifle to shoot nor stone to pelt him with, I was looking eagerly 
after some missile for his benefit, when the report of a gun 
came from the camp, and the ball threw up the sand just 
beyond him; at this he gave a slight jump, and stretched 

40 away so swiftly that he soon dwindled into a mere speck 
on the distant sand-beds. The number of carcasses that 



THE BUFFALO CAMP 309 

by this time were lying about the prairie all round us sum- 
moned the wolves from every quarter; the spot where 
Shaw and Henry had hunted together soon became their 
favorite resort, for here about a dozen dead buffalo were 
fermenting under the hot sun. I used often to go over the 5 
river and watch them at their meal;- by lying under the 
bank it was easy to get a full view of them. Three differ- 
ent kinds were present; there were the white wolves and 
the gray wolves, both extremely large, and besides these 
the small prairie wolves, not much bigger than spaniels. 10 
They would howl and fight in a crowd around a single car- 
cass, yet they were so watchful, and their senses so acute, 
that I never was able to crawl within a fair shooting dis- 
tance; whenever I attempted it, they would all scatter at 
once and glide silently away through the tall grass. The 15 
air above this spot was always full of buzzards or black vul- 
tures; whenever the wolves left a carcass they would de- 
scend upon it, and cover it so densely that a rifle-bullet shot 
at random among the gormandizing crowd would generally 
strike down two or three of them. These bii-ds would now 20 
be sailing by scores just above our camp, their broad black 
wings seeming half transparent as they expanded them 
against the bright sky. The wolves and the buzzards 
thickened about us with every hour, and two or three eagles 
also came into the feast. I killed a bull within rifle-sh(jt 25 
of the camp ; that night the wolves made a fearful howling 
close at hand, and in the morning the carcass was com- 
pletely hollowed out by thcFe voracious feeders. 

After we had remained four days at this camp we pre- 
pared to leave it. We had for our own part about five 30 
hundred pounds of dried meat, and the California men had 
prepared some three hundred more; this consisted of the 
fattest and choicest parts of eight or nine cows, a very small 
quantity only being taken from each, and the rest aban- 
doned to the wolves. The pack animals were laden, the 35 
horses were saddled, and the mules harnessed to the cart. 
Even Tete Rouge was ready at last, and slowly moving 
from the gro\md,"we resumed our journey eastward. When 
we had advanced about a mile, Shaw missed a valuable 
hunting knife aijd turned back in search of it, thinking that 40 
he had left it "at the camp. He approached the place 



310 THE OREGON TRAIL 

cautiously, fearful that Indians might be lurking about, for a 
deserted camp is dangerous to return to. He saw no enemy, 
but the scene was a wild and dreary one; the prairie was 
overshadowed by dull, leaden clouds, for the day was dark 
5 and gloomy. The ashes of the fires were still smoking by 
the river-side; the grass around them was trampled down 
by men and horses, and strewn with all the litter of a camp. 
Our departure had been a gathering signal to the birds and 
beasts of prey; Shaw assured me that literally dozens of 

lo wolves were prowling about the smoldering fires, while 
multitudes were roaming over the prairie around; they all 
fled as he approached, some running over the sand-beds 
and some over the grassy plains. The vultures in great 
clouds were soaring overhead, and the dead bull near the 

15 camp was completely blackened by the flock that had 
alighted upon it; they flapped their broad wings, and 
stretched upward their crested heads and long skinny necks, 
fearing to remain, yet reluctant to leave their disgusting 
feast. As he searched about the fires he saw the wolves 

20 seated on the distant hills waiting for his departure. Hav- 
ing looked in vain for his knife, he mounted again and left 
the wolves and the vultures to banquet freely upon the 
carrion of the camp. 



CHAPTER XXVI 

DOWN THE ARKANSAS 

In the summer of 1846 the wild and lonely banks of the 
Upper Arkansas beheld for the first time the passage of an 
army. General Kearny, on his march to Santa Fe, adopted 
this route in preference to the old trail of the Cimarron. ° 
When we came down the main body of the troops had 5 
already passed on; Price's ° Missouri regiment, however, 
was still on the way, having left the frontier much later 
than the rest; and about this time we began to meet them 
moving along the trail, one or two companies at a time. 
No men ever embarked upon a military expedition with a 10 
greater love for the work before them than the Missourians ; 
but if discipline and subordination be the criterion of merit, 
these soldiers were worthless indeed. Yet when their ex- 
ploits have rung through all America, it would be absurd 
to deny that they were excellent irregular troops. Their 15 
victories were gained in the teeth of every established prece- 
dent of warfare ; they were owing to a singular combina- 
tion of military qualities in the men themselves. Without 
discipline or a spirit of subordination, they knew how to keep 
their ranks and act as one man. Doniphan's° regiment 20 
marched through New Mexico more like a band of free 
companions than like the paid soldiers of a modern govern- 
ment. When General Taylor complimented Doniphan on 
his success at Sacramento ° and elsewhere, the colonel's 
reply very well illustrates the relations which subsisted 25 
between the officers and men of his command: 

" I don't know anything of the maneuvers. The boys 
kept coming to me, to let them charge; and when I saw 
a good opportunity, I told them they might go. They 
were off like a shot, and that's all I know about it." 30 

The backwoods lawyer was better fitted to conciliate 
311 



312 THE OREGON TRAIL 

the good-will than to command the obedience of his men. 
There were many serving under him, who both from char- 
acter and education could better have held command than 
he. 
5 At the battle of Sacramento his frontiersmen fought 
under every possible disadvantage. The Mexicans had 
chosen their own position; they were drawn up across 
the valley that led to their native city of Chihuahua°; their 
whole front was covered by intrenchments and defended 

loby batteries of heavy cannon; they outnumbered the in- 
vaders five to one. An eagle flew over the Americans, 
and a deep murmur rose along their lines. The enemy's 
batteries opened ; long they remained under fire, but when 
at length the word was given, they shouted and ran for- 

15 ward. In one of the divisions, when midway to the enemy, 
a drunken officer ordered a halt; the exasperated men hesi- 
tated to obey. 

"Forward, boys!" cried a private from the ranks; and 
the Americans, rushing like tigers upon the enemy, bounded 

20 over the breastwork. Four hundred Mexicans were slain 
upon the spot and the rest fled, scattering over the plain 
like sheep. The standards, cannon, and baggage were 
taken, and among the rest a wagon laden with cords, which 
the Mexicans, in the fullness of their confidence, had made 

2"; ready for tying the American prisoners. 

Doniphan's volunteers, who gained this victory, passed 
up with the main army; but Price's soldiers, whom we 
now met, were men from the same neighborhood, precisely 
similar in character, manner, and appearance. One fore- 

30 noon, as we were descending upon a very wide meadow, 
where we meant to rest for an hour or two, we saw a dark 
body of horsemen approaching at a distance. In order to 
find water, we were obliged to turn aside to the river bank, 
a full half mile from the trail. Here we put up a kind of 

35 awning, and spreading buffalo robes on the ground, Shaw 
and I sat down to smoke beneath it. 

"We are going to catch it now," said Shaw; "look at 
those fellows; there'll be no peace for us here." 

And in good truth about half the volunteers had straggled 

40 away from the line of march, and were riding over the 
meadow toward us. 



DOWN THE ARKANSAS 313 

''How are you?" said the first who came up, alighting 
from his horse and throwing himself upon the ground. 
The rest followed close, and a score of them soon gathered 
about us, some lying at full length and some sitting on 
horseback. They all belonged to a company raised in St. 5 
Louis. There were some ruffian faces among them, and 
some haggard with debau(4hery; but on the whole they 
were extremely good-looking men, superior beyond measure 
to the ordinary rank and file of an army. Except that 
they were booted to the knees, they wore their belts and 10 
military trappings over the ordinary dress of citizens. Be- 
sides their swords and holster pistols, they carried slung 
from their saddles the excellent Springfield carbines, ° 
loaded at the breech. They inquired the character of our 
party, and were anxious to know the prospect of killing 15 
buffalo, and the chance that their horses would stand the 
journey to Santa Fe. All this was well enough, but a 
moment after a worse visitation came upon us. 

" How are you, strangers ? whar are you going and whar 
are you from?" said a fellow, who came trotting up with 20 
an old straw hat on his head. He was dressed in the coars- 
est tJrown homespun cloth. His face was rather sallow 
from fever-and-ague, and his tall figure, though strong and 
sinewy, was quite thin, and had besides an angular look, 
which, together with his boorish seat on horseback, gave 25 
him an appearance anything but graceful. Plenty more of 
the same stamp were close behind him. Their company 
was raised in one of the frontier counties, and we soon had 
abundant evidence of their rustic breeding; dozens of them 
came crowding round, pushing between our first visitors, 30 
and staring at us with unabashed faces. 

"Are you the captain?" asked one fellow. 

"What's your business out here?" asked another. 

" Whar do you live when you're at home?" said a third. 

"I reckon you're traders," surmised a fourth; and to 35 
crown the whole, one of them came confidentially to my 
side and inquired in a low voice, "What's your partner's 
name?" 

As each newcomer repeated the same questions, the 
nuisance became intolerable. Our military visitors were 40 
soon disgusted at the concise nature of our replies, and 



314 THE OREGON TRAIL 



we could overhear them muttering curses against us. 
While we sat smoking, not in the best imaginable humor, 
Tete Rouge's tongue was never idle. He never forgot his 
military character, and during the whole interview he was 
5 incessantly busy among his fellow-soldiers. At length 
we placed him on the ground before us, and told him that 
he might play the part of spoilsman for the whole. Tete 
Rouge was delighted, and we soon had the satisfaction of 
seeing him talk and gabble at such a rate that the torrent 

lo of questions was in a great measure diverted from us. A 
little while after, to our amazement, we saw a large can- 
non with four horses come lumbering up behind the crowd ; 
and the diuver, who was perched on one of the animals, 
stretching his neck so as to look over the rest of the men, 

15 called out: 

" Whar are you from, and what's your business ?" 
The captain of one of the companies was among our 
visitors, drawn by the same curiosity that had attracted 
his men. Unless their faces belied them, not a few in the 

20 crowd might with great advantage have changed places 
with their commander. 

" Well, men," said he, lazily rising from the ground where 
he had been lounging, "it's getting late, I reckon we had 
better be moving." 

25 " I shan't start yet anyhow," said one fellow, who was 
lying half asleep with his head resting on his arm. 

" Don't be in a hurry, captain," added the lieutenant. 
" Well, have it your own way, we'll wait a while longer," 
replied the obsequious commander, 

30 At length however our visitors went straggling away as 
they had come, and we, to our great relief, were left alone 
again. 

No one can deny the intrepid bravery of these men, 
their intelligence and the bold frankness of their character, 

35 free from all that is mean and sordid. Yet for the moment 
the extreme roughness of their manners half inclines one to 
forget their heroic qualities. Most of them seem without 
the least perception of delicacy or propriety, though among 
them individuals may be found in whose manners there is 

40 a plain courtesy, while their features bespeak a gallant 
spirit equal to any enterprise. 



^ 



DOWN THE ARKANSAS 315 



No one was more relieved than DesJauriers by the depar- 
ture of the volunteers ; for dinner was getting colder every 
moment. He spread a well- whitened bufitalo hide upon the 
grass, placed in the middle the juicy hump of a fat cow, 
ranged around it the tin plates and cups, and then ac- s 
quainted us that all was ready. Tete Rouge, with his 
usual alacrity on such occasions, was the first to take his 
seat. In his former capacity of steamboat clerk, he had 
learned to prefix the honorary Mister to everybody's name, 
whether of high or low degree; so Jim Gurney was Mr. lo 
Gurney, Henry was Mr. Henry, and even Deslauriers, for 
the first time in his life, heard himself addressed as Mr. 
Deslauriers. This did not prevent his conceiving a violent 
enmity against Tete Rouge, who, in his futile though praise- 
worthy attempts to make himself useful, used always to 15 
intermeddle with cooking the dinners. Deslauriers' dis- 
position knew no medium between smiles and sunshine and 
a downright tornado of wrath; he said nothing to Tete 
Rouge, but his wrongs rankled in his breast. Tete Rouge 
had taken his place at dinner; it was his happiest moment; 20 
he sat enveloped in the old buffalo coat, sleeves turned up in 
preparation for the work, and his short legs crossed on the 
grass before him; he had a cup of coffee by his side and his 
knife ready in his hand, and while he looked upon the fat 
hump ribs, his eyes dilated with anticipation. Deslauriers 25 
sat just opposite to him, and the rest of us by this time 
had taken our seats. 

" How is this, Deslauriers ? You haven't given us bread 
enough." 

At this Deslauriers' placid face flew instantly into a par- 30 
oxysm of contortions. He grinned with wrath, chattered, 
gesticulated, and hurled forth a volley of incoherent words 
in broken English at the astonished Tete Rouge. It was 
just possible to make out that he was accusing him of 
having stolen and eaten four large cakes which had been 35 
laid by for dinner. Tete Rouge, utterly confounded at this 
sudden attack, stared at Deslauriers for a moment in 
dumb amazement, with mouth and eyes wide open. At 
last he found speech, and protested that the accusation 
was false; and that he could not conceive how he had 40 
offended Mr. Deslauriers, or provoked him to use such 



316 THE OREGON TRAIL 

ungentlemanly expressions. The tempest of words raged 
with such fury that nothing else could be heard. But Tete 
Rouge, from his greater command of English, had a mani- 
fest advantage over Deslauriers, who after sputtering and 
5 grimacing for a while, found his words quite inadequate 
to the expression of his wrath. He jumped up and van- 
ished, Jerking out between his teeth one furious sacre 
enfant de grace, a Canadian title of honor, made doubly 
emphatic by being usually applied together with a cut of 

lo the whip to refractory mules and horses. 

The next morning we saw an old buffalo bull escorting 
his cow with two small calves over the prairie. Close 
behind came four or five large white wolves, sneaking 
stealthily through the long meadow-grass, and watching 

15 for the moment when one of the children should chance 
to lag behind his parents. The old bull kept well on his 
guard, and faced about now and then to keep the prowl- 
ing ruffians at a distance. 

As we approached our nooning place, we saw five or six 

20 buffalo standing at the very summit of a tall bluff, trotting 
forward to the spot where we meant to stop. I flung off 
my saddle and turned my horse loose. By making a circuit 
under cover of some rising ground, I reached the foot of the 
bluff unnoticed, and climbed up its steep side. Lying under 

25 the brow of the declivity, I prepared to fire at the buffalo, 
who stood on the flat surface above, not five 3^ards dis- 
tant. Perhaps I was too hasty, for the gleaming rifie-barrel 
leveled over the edge caught their notice ; they turned and 
ran. Close as they were, it was impossible to kill them 

30 when in that position, and stepping upon the summit I pur- 
sued them over the high arid table-land. It was extremely 
rugged and broken; a great sandy ravine was channeled 
through it, with smaller ravines entering on each side like 
tributary streams. The buffalo scattered, and I soon lost 

35 sight of most of them as they scuttled away through the 
sandy chasms; a bull and a cow alone kept in view. For a 
while they ran along the edge of the great ravine, appearing 
and disappearing as they dived into some chasm and again 
emerged from it. At last they stretched out upon the broad 

40 prairie, a plain nearly flat and almost devoid of verdure, 
for every short grass-blade was dried and shriveled by the 



DOWN THE ARKANSAS 317 

glaring sun. Now and then the old bull would face toward 
nie; whenever he did so I fell to the ground and lay motion- 
less. In this manner I chased them for about two miles,, 
until at length I heard in front a deep hoarse bellowing. A 
moment after a band of about a hundred bulls, before hidden 5 
by a slight swell of the plain, came at once into view. The 
fugitives ran toward them. Instead of mingling with the 
band, as I expected, they passed directly through, and con- 
tinued their flight. At this I gave up the chase, and kneel- 
ing down, crawled to within gunshot of the bulls, and with 10 
panting breath and trickling brow sat down on the ground 
to watch them; my presence did not disturb them in the 
least. They were not feeding, for, indeed, there was noth- 
ing to eat; but they seemed to have chosen the parched and 
scorching desert as the scene of their amusements. Some 15 
were rolling on the ground amid a cloud of dust; others, 
with a hoarse rumbling bellow, were butting their large heads 
together, while many stood motionless, as if quite inanimate. 
Except their monstrous growth of tangled grizzly mane, 
they had no hair; for their old coat had fallen off" in the 20 
spring, and their new one had not as yet appeared. Some- 
times an old bull would step forward, and gaze at me with a 
grim and stupid countenance; then he would turn and butt 
his next neighbor; then he would lie down and roll over in 
the dirt, kicking his hoofs in the air. When satisfied with 25 
this amusement he would jerk his head and shoulders up- 
ward, and resting on his forelegs stare at me in this posi- 
tion, half blinded by his mane, and his face covered with 
dirt; then up he would spring upon all fours, and shake 
his dusty sides; turning half round, he would stand with his 30 
beard touching the ground, in an attitude of 'profound 
abstraction, as if reflecting on his puerile ° conduct. "You 
are too ugly to live," thought I; and aiming at the ugliest, 
I shot three of them in succession. The rest were not at all 
discomposed at this; they kept on bellowing and butting 35 
and rolling on the ground as before. Henry Chatillon 
always cautioned us to keep perfectly quiet in the presence 
of a wounded buffalo, for any movement is apt to excite 
him to make an attack; so I sat still upon the ground, 
loading and firing with as little motion as possible. While 40 
I was thus employed, a spectator made his appearance: a 



318 THE OREGON TRAIL 

little antelope came running up with remarkable gentleness 
to within fifty yards; and there it stood, its slender neck 
arched, its small horns thrown back, and its large dark 
eyes gazing on me with a look of eager curiosity. By the 
5 side of the shaggy and brutish monsters before me, it seemed 
like some lovely young girl wandering near a den of robbers 
or a nest of bearded pirates. The buffalo looked uglier 
than ever. "Here goes for another of you," thought I, 
feeling in my pouch for a percussion-cap. Not a percussion- 

lo cap was there. My good rifle was useless as an old iron bar. 
One of the wounded bulls had not yet fallen, and I waited 
for some time, hoping every moment that his strength would 
fail him. He still stood firm, looking grimly at me, and 
disregarding Henry's advice I rose and walked away. 

IS Many of the bulls turned and looked at me, but the wounded 
brute made no attack. I soon came upon a deep ravine 
which would give me shelter in case of emergency; so I 
turned round and threw a stone at the bulls. They received 
it with the utmost indifference. Feeling myself insulted 

20 at their refusal to be frightened, I swung my hat, shouted, 
and made a show of running toward them; at this they 
crowded together and galloped off, leaving their dead and 
wounded upon the field. As I moved toward the camp I 
saw the last survivor totter and fall dead. My speed in 

25 returning was wonderfully quickened by the reflection that 
the Pawnees were abroad, and that I was defenseless in case 
of meeting with an enemy. I saw no living thing, however, 
except two or three squalid old bulls scrambling among the 
sand-hills that flanked the great ravine. When I reached 

30 camp the party were nearly ready for the afternoon move. 

We encamped that evening at a short distance from the 

river bank. About midnight, as we all lay asleep on the 

ground, the man nearest to me gently reaching out his 

hand, touched my shoulder, and cautioned me at the 

35 same time not to move. It was bright starlight. Open- 
ing my eyes and slightly turning, I saw a large white wolf 
moving stealthily around the embers of our fire, with his 
nose close to the ground. Disengaging my hand from the 
blanket, I drew the cover from my rifle, w^hich lay close 

40 at my side ; the motion alarmed the wolf, and with long 
leaps he bounded out of the camp. Jumping up, I fired 



DOWN THE ARKANSAS 319 



after him when he was about thirty yards distant; the 
melancholy hum of the bullet sounded far away through 
the night. At the sharp report, so suddenly breaking upon 
the stillness, all the men sprang up. 

"You've killed him," said one of them. 5 

"No, I haven't," said I; ''there he goes, running along 
the river." 

"Then there's two of them. Don't you see that one 
lying out yonder?" 

We went out to it, and instead of a dead white wolf found lo 
the bleached skull of a buffalo. I had missed my mark, 
and what was worse, had grossly violated a standing law 
of the prairie. When in a dangerous part of the country, 
it is considered highly imprudent to fire a gun after encamp- 
ing, lest the report should reach the ears of the Indians. 15 

The horses were saddled in the morning, and the last 
man had lighted his pipe at the dying ashes of the fire. 
The beauty of the day enlivened us all. Even Ellis felt 
its influence, and occasionally made a remark as we rode 
along, and Jim Gurney told endless stories of his cruisings 20 
in the United States service. The buffalo were abundant, 
and at length a large band of them went running up the 
hills on the left. 

"Do you see them buffalo?" said Ellis, "now I'll bet 
any man I'll go and kill one with my yager." 25 

And leaving his horse to follow on with the party, he 
strode up the hill after them. Henry looked at us with 
his peculiar humorous expression, pnd proposed that we 
should follow Ellis to see how he would kill a fat cow. 
As scon as he was out of sight we rode up the hill after him, 30 
and waited behind a little ridge till we heard the report 
of the unfailing yager. Mounting to the top, we saw Ellis 
clutching his favorite weapon with both hands, and staring 
after the buffalo, who one and all were galloping off at full 
speed. As we descended the hill we saw the party straggling 35 
along the trail below. When we joined them, another 
scene of amateur hunting awaited us. I forgot to say that 
when we met the volunteers Tete Rouge had obtained a 
horse from one of them, in exchange for his mule, whom 
he feared and detested. This horse he christened James. 40 
James, though not worth so much as the mule, was a large 



320 THE OREGON TRAIL 

and strong animal. Tete Rouge was very proud of his new 
acquisition, and suddenly became ambitious to run a buffalo 
with him. At his request, I lent him my pistols, though not 
without great misgivings, since when Tete Rouge hunted 
5 buffalo the pursuer was in more danger than the pursued. 
He hung the holsters at his saddle-bow; and now, as we 
passed along, a band of bulls left their grazing in the meadow 
and galloped in a long file across the trail in front. 

"Now's your chance, Tete; come, let's see you kill a 

lo bull." Thus urged, the hunter cried, " Get up ! " and James, 
obedient to the signal, cantered deliberately forward at an 
abominably uneasy gait. Tete Rouge, as we contemplated 
him from behind, made a most remarkable figure. He 
still wore the old buffalo coat ; his blanket, which was tied 

15 in a loose bundle behind his saddle, went jolting from one 
side to the other, and a large tin canteen half full of water, 
which hung from his pommel, was -jerked about his leg in a 
manner which greatly embarrassed him. 

" Let out your horse, man; lay on your whip !" we called 

20 out to him. The buffalo were getting farther off at every 
instant. James, being ambitious to mend his pace, tugged 
hard at the rein, and one of his rider's boots escaped from 
the stirrup. 

" Woa ! I say, woa !" cried Tete Rouge, in great pertur- 

25 bation,° and after much effort James's progress was arrested. 
The hunter came trotting back to the party, disgusted with 
buffalo running, and he was received with overwhelming 
congratulations. 

"Too good a chance to lose," said Shaw, pointing to an- 

30 other band of bulls on the left. We lashed our horses and 
galloped upon them. Shaw killed one with each barrel of 
his gun. I separated another from the herd and shot him. 
The small bullet of the rifled pistol, striking too far back, 
did not immediately take effect, and the bull ran on with 

35 unabated speed. Again and again I snapped the remaining 
pistol at him. I primed it afresh three or four times, and 
each time it missed fire, for the touch-hole was clogged up. 
Returning it to the holster, I began to load the empty pistol, 
still galloping by the side of the bull. By this time he was 

40 grown desperate. The foam flew from his jaws and his 
tongue lolled out. Before the pistol was loaded he sprang 



DOWN THE AEKAJVSAS 321 



upon me, and followed up his attack with a furious rush. 
The only alternative was to run away or be killed. I took 
to flight, and the bull, bristling with fury, pursued me 
closely. The pistol was soon ready, and then looking back, 
I saw his head five or six yards behind my horse's tail. To 5 
fire at it would be useless, for a bullet flattens against the 
adamantine skull of a buffalo bull. Inclining my body to 
the left, I turned my horse in that direction as sharply as 
his speed would permit. The bull, rushing blindly on with 
great force and weight, did not turn so quickly. As I 10 
looked back, his neck and shoulders were exposed to view; 
turning in the saddle, I shot a bullet through them obliquely 
into his vitals. He gave over the chase and soon fell to the 
ground. An English tourist represents a situation like 
this as one of imminent danger; this is a great mistake; the 15 
bull never pursues long, and the horse must be wretched 
indeed that cannot keep out of his way for two or three 
minutes. 

We were now to come to a part of the country where we 
were bound in common prudence to use every possible 20 
precaution. We mounted guard at night, each man stand- 
ing in his turn; and no one ever slept without drawing his 
rifle close to his side or folding it with him in his blanket. 
One morning our vigilance was stimulated by our finding 
traces of a large Comanche encampment. Fortunately for 25 
us, however, it had been abandoned nearly a week. On 
the next evening we found the ashes of a recent fire, which 
gave us at the time some uneasiness. At length we reached 
the Caches, a place of dangerous repute ; and it had a most 
dangerous appearance, consisting of sand-hills everywhere 30 
broken by ravines and deep chasms. Here we found the 
grave of Swan, killed at this place, probably by the Paw- 
nees, two or three weeks before. His remains, more than 
once violated by the Indians and the wolves, were suffered 
at length to remain undisturbed in their wild burial place. 35 

For several days we met detached companies of Price's 
regiment. Horses would often break loose at night from 
their camps. One afternoon we picked up three of these 
stragglers quietly grazing along the river. After we came 
to camp that evening, Jim Gurney brought news that more 40 
of them were in sight. It was nearly dark, and a cold. 



322 THE OREGON TRAIL 



drizzling rain had set in; but we all turned out, and after 
an hour's chase nine horses were caught and brought in. 
One of them was equipped with saddle and bridle; pistols 
were hanging at the pommel of the saddle, a carbine was 
5 slung at its side, and a blanket rolled up behind it. In the 
morning, glorying in our valuable prize, we resumed our 
journey, and our cavalcade° presented a much more im- 
posing appearance than ever before. We kept on till the 
afternoon, when, far behind, three horsemen appeared on 

lo the horizon. Coming on at a hand-gallop, they soon over- 
took us, and claimed all the horses as belonging to them- 
selves and others of their company. They were of course 
given up, very much to the mortification of Ellis and Jim 
Gurney. 

15 Our own horses now showed signs of fatigue, and we 
resolved to give them half a day's rest. We stopped at 
noon at a grassy spot by the river. After dinner Shaw 
and Henry went out to hunt; and while the men lounged 
about the camp, I lay down to read in the shadow of the cart. 

20 Looking up, I saw a bull grazing alone on the prairie more 
than a mile distant. I was tired of reading, and taking my 
rifle I walked toward him. As I came near, I crawled upon 
the ground until I approached to within a hundred yards; 
here I sat down upon the grass and waited till he should 

25 turn himself into a proper position to receive his death- 
wound. He was a grim old veteran. His loves and his 
battles were over for that season, and now, gaunt and war- 
worn, he had withdrawn from the herd to graze by himself 
and recruit his exhausted strength. He was miserably 

30 emaciated ; his mane was all in tatters ; his hide was bare 
and rough as an elephant's, and covered with dried patches 
of the mud in which he had been wallowing. He showed 
all his ribs whenever he moved. He looked like some grizzly 
old ruffian grown gray in blood and violence, and scowling 

35 on all the world from his misanthropic seclusion. The old 
savage looked up when I first approached, and gave me a 
fierce stare; then he fell to grazing again with an air of 
contemptuous indifference. The moment after, as if sud- 
denly recollecting himself, he threw up his head, faced quickly 

40 about, and to my amazement came at a rapid trot directly 
toward me. I was strongly impelled to get up and run. 



DOWN THE ARKANSAS 323 

but this would have been very dangerous. Sitting quite 
still, I aimed, as he came on, at the thin part of the skull 
above the nose. After he had passed over about three- 
quarters of the distance between us, I was on the point of 
firing, when, to my great satisfaction, he stopped short. 5 
I had full opportunity to studying his countenance; his 
whole front was covered with a huge mass of coarse matted 
hair, which hung so low that nothing but his two fore feet 
were visible beneath it; his short thick horns were blunted 
and split to the very roots in his various battles, and across 10 
his nose and forehead were two or three large white scars, 
which gave him a grim and at the same time a whimsical 
appearance. It seemed to me that he stood there motion- 
less for a full quarter of an hour, looking at me through 
the tangled locks of his mane. For my part, I remained 15 
as quiet as he, and looked quite as hard ; I felt greatly in- 
clined to come to terms with him. ''My friend," thought 
I, " if you'll let me off, I'll let you off." At length he seemed 
to have abandoned any hostile design. Very slowly and 
deliberately he began to turn about ; little by little his side 20 
came into view, all beplastered with mud. It was a tempt- 
ing sight. I forgot my prudent intentions, and fired my 
rifle; a pistol would have served at that distance. Round 
spun old bull like a top, and away he galloped over the 
prairie. He ran some distance, and even ascended a con- 25 
siderable hill, before he lay down and died. After shooting 
another bull among the hills, I went back to camp. 

At noon, on the fourteenth of September, a very large 
Santa Fe caravan came up. The plain was covered with 
the long files of their white-topped wagons, the close black 30 
carriages ° in which the traders travel and sleep, large droves 
of animals, and men on horseback and on foot. They all 
stopped on the meadow near us. Our diminutive cart 
and handful of men made but an insignificant figure by 
the side of their wide and bustling camp. Tete Rouge 35 
went over to visit them, and soon came back with half a 
dozen biscuits in one hand and a bottle of brandy in the 
other. I inquired where he got them. "Oh," said T^te 
Rouge, " I know some of the traders. Dr. Dobbs is there 
besides." I asked who Dr. Dobbs might be. "One of our 40 
St. Louis doctors," replied Tete Rouge. For two days 



324 THE OREGON TRAIL 



past I had been severely attacked by the same disorder 
which had so greatly reduced my strength when at the 
mountains; at this time I was suffering not a little from 
the sudden pain and weakness which it occasioned. Tete 
5 Rouge, in answer to my inquiries, declared that Dr. Dobbs 
was a physician of the first standing. Without at all be- 
lieving him, I resolved t'o consult this eminent practitioner. 
Walking over to the camp, I found him lying sound asleep 
under one of the wagons. He offered in his own person 

lo but an indifferent specimen of his skill, for it was five months 
since I had seen so cadaverous a face. His hat had fallen 
off, and his yellow hair was all in disorder; one of his arms 
supplied the place of a pillow; his pantaloons were wrinkled 
halfway up to his knees, and he was covered with little bits 

15 of grass and straw, upon which he had rolled in his uneasy 
slumber. A Mexican stood near, and I made him a sign 
that he should touch the doctor. Up sprang the learned 
Dobbs, and, sitting upright, rubbed his eyes and looked about 
him in great bewilderment. I regretted the necessity of 

20 disturbing him, and said I had come to ask professional 
advice. ''Your system, sir, is in a disordered state," said 
he solemnly, after a short examination. 

I inquired what might be the particular species of dis- 
order. 

25 "Evidently a morbid action of the liver," replied the 
medical man; "I will give you a prescription." 

Repairing to the back of one of the covered wagons, he 
scrambled in; for a moment I could see nothing of him 
but his boots. At length he produced a box which he had 

30 extracted from some dark recess within, and opening it, 
he presented me with a folded paper of some size. "What 
is it?" said I. "Calomel," said the doctor. 

Under the circumstances I would have taken almost 
anything. There was not enough to do me much harm, 

35 and it might possibly do good; so at camp that night I took 
the poison instead of supper. 

That camp is worthy of notice. The traders warned us 
not to follow the main trail along the river, "unless," as 
one of them observed, "you want to have your throats 

40 cut !" The river at this place makes a bend; and a smaller 
trail, known as the Ridge-path, leads directly across the 



DOWN THE ARKANSAS 325 

prairie from point to point, a distance of sixty or seventy 
miles. 

We followed this trail, and after traveling seven or eight 
miles, we came to a small stream, where we encamped. 
Our position was not chosen with much forethought or 5 
military skill. The water was in a deep hollow, with steep, 
high banks; on the grassy bottom of this hollow we pick- 
eted our horses, while we ourselves encamped upon the 
barren prairie just above. The opportunity was admirable 
either for driving off our horses or attacking us. After 10 
dark, as Tete Rouge was sitting at supper, we observed 
him pointing with a face of speechless horror over the 
shoulder of Henry, who was opposite to him. Aloof amid 
the darkness appeared a gigantic black apparition; sol- 
emnly swaying to and fro, it advanced steadily upon us. 15 
Henry, half vexed and half amused, jumped up, spread 
out his arms, and shouted. The invader was an old buf- 
falo bull, who with characteristic stupidity, was walking 
directly into camp. It cost some shouting and swinging 
of hats before we could bring him first to a halt and then 20 
to a rapid retreat. 

That night the moon was full and bright; but as the 
black clouds chased rapidly over it, we were at one moment 
in light and at the next in darkness. As the evening ad- 
vanced, a thunder-storm came up ; it struck us with such 25 
violence that the tent would have been blown over if we had 
not interposed the cart to break the force of the wind. At 
length it subsided to a steady rain. I lay awake through 
nearly the whole night, listening to its dull patter upon the 
canvas above. The moisture, which filled the tent and 30 
trickled from everything in it, did not add to the comfort 
of the situation. About twelve o'clock Shaw went out to 
stand guard amid the rain and pitch darkness, Munroe, 
the most vigilant as well as one of the bravest among us, 
was also on the alert. When about two hours had passed, 35 
Shaw came silently in, and touching Henry, called him in 
a low quick voice to come out. "What is it?" I asked. 
"Indians, I believe," whispered Shaw; "but lie still; I'll 
call you if there's a fight." 

He and Henry went out together. I took the cover 40 
from my rifle, put a fresh percussion cap upon it, and then, 



326 THE OREGON TRAIL 

being in much pain, lay down again. In about five minutes 
Shaw came in again. "All right," he said, as he lay down 
to sleep. Henry was now standing guard in his place. He 
told me in the morning the particulars of the alarm, Mun- 

5 roe's watchful eye discovered some dark objects down in 
the hollow, among the horses, like men creeping on all 
fours. Lying flat on their faces, he and Shaw crawled to 
the edge of the bank, and were soon convinced that what 
they saw were Indians. Shaw silently withdrew to call 

CO Henry, and they all lay watching in the same position. 
Henry's eye is one of the best on the prairie. He detected 
after a while the true nature of the moving objects; they 
were nothing but wolves creeping among the horses. 

It is very singular that when picketed near a camp horses 

[5 seldom show any fear of such an intrusion. The wolves 
appear to have no other object than that of gnawing the 
trail-ropes of raw-hide by which the animals are secured. 
Several times in the course of the journey my horse's trail- 
rope was bitten in two by these nocturnal visitors. 



CHAPTER XXVII 

THE SETTLEMENTS 

The next day was extremely hot, and we rode from 
morning till night without seeing a tree or a bush or a drop 
of water. Our horses and mules suffered much more than 
we, but as sunset approached they pricked up their ears and 
mended their pace. Water was not far off. When we 5 
came to the descent of the broad shallow valley where it 
lay, an unlooked-for sight awaited us. The stream glistened 
at the bottom, and along its banks were pitched a multitude 
of tents, while hundreds of cattle were feeding over the 
meadows. Bodies of troops, both horse and foot, and 10 
long trains of wagons with men, women, and children, 
were, moving over the opposite ridge and descending the 
broad declivity in front. These were the Mormon bat- 
talion in the service of government, together with a con- 
siderable number of Missouri volunteers. The Mormons 15 
were to be paid off in California, and they were allowed to 
bring with them their families and property. There was 
something very striking in the half-military, half-patriar- 
chal appearance of these armed fanatics, thus on their way 
with their wives and children, to found, it might be, a 20 
Mormon empire in California. We were much more as- 
tonished than pleased at the sight before us. In order to 
find an unoccupied camping ground, we were obliged to pass 
a quarter of a mile up the stream, and here we were soon 
beset by a swarm of Mormons and Missourlans. The 25 
United States officer in command of the whole came also 
to visit us, and remained some time at our camp. 

In the morning the country was covered with mist We 
were always early risers, but before we were ready the 
voices of men driving in the cattle sounded all around us. 30 
As we passed above their camp, we saw through the ob- 
scurity that the tents were falling and the ranks rapidly 

327 



328 THE OREGON TRAIL 

forming; and mingled with the cries of women and children, 
the rolling of the Mormon drums and the clear blast of their 
trumpets sounded through the mist. 

From that time to the journey's end, we met almost 
5 every day long trains of government wagons, laden with 
stores for the troops and crawling at a snail's pace toward 
Santa Fe. 

T6te Rouge had a mortal antipathy to danger, but on a 
foraging expedition one evening, he achieved an adven- 

lo ture more perilous than had yet befallen any man in the 
party. The night after we left the Ridge-path we en- 
camped close to the river. At sunset we saw a train of 
wagons encamping on the trail about three miles off; and 
though we saw them distinctly, our little cart, as it after- 

15 ward proved, entirely escaped their view. For some days 
Tete Rouge had been longing eagerly after a dram of whisky. 
So, resolving to improve the present opportunity, he 
mounted his horse James, slung his canteen over his shoulder, 
and set forth in search of his favorite liquor. Some hours 

20 passed without his returning. We thought that he was 
lost, or perhaps that some stray Indian had snapped him 
up. While the rest fell asleep I remained on guard. Late 
at night a tremulous voice saluted me from the darkness, 
and Tete Rouge and James soon became visible, advancing 

25 toward the c^mp. Tete Rouge was in much agitation 
and big with some important tidings. Sitting down on 
the shaft of the cart, he told the following story: 

When he left the camp he had no idea, he said, how late 
it was. By the time he approached the wagoners it was 

30 perfectly dark ; and as he saw them all sitting around their 
fires within the circle of wagons, their guns laid by their 
sides, he thought he might as well give warning of his ap- 
proach, in order to prevent a disagreeable mistake. Rais- 
ing his voice to the highest pitch, he screamed out in pro- 

35 longed accents, "Camp, ahoy!" This eccentric salutation 
produced anything but the desired result. Hearing such 
hideous sounds proceeding from the outer darkness, the 
wagoners thought that the whole Pawnee nation were about 
to break in and take their scalps. Up they sprang staring 

40 with terror. Each man snatched his gun ; some stood 
behind the wagons; some threw themselves flat on the 



THE SETTLEMENTS 329 

ground, and in an instant twenty cocked muskets were 
leveled full at the horrified Tete Rouge, who just then began 
to be visible through the darkness. 

"Thar they come/' cried the master wagoner, "fire, fire ! 
shoot that feller." 5 

" No, no !" screamed Tete Rouge, in an ecstasy of fright; 
"don't fire, don't! I'm a friend, I'm an American citizen!" 

"You're a friend, be you?" cried a gruff voice from the 
wagons, "then what are you yelling out thar for, like a 
wild Injun. Come along up here if you're a man." ro 

"Keep 3^our guns p'inted at him," added the master 
wagoner, "maybe he's a decoy, like." 

Tete Rouge in utter bewilderment made his approach, 
with the gaping muzzles of the muskets still before his eyes. 
He succeeded at last in explaining his character and situa- 15 
tion, and the Missourians admitted him into camp. He got 
no whisky; but as he represented himself as a great invalid, 
and suffering much from coarse fare, they made up a con- 
tribution for him of rice, biscuit, and sugar from their own 
rations. 20 

In the morning at breakfast, T6te Rouge once more 
related this story. We hardly knew how much of it to 
believe, though after some cross-questioning we failed to 
discover any flaw in the narrative. Passing by the 
wagoner's camp, they confirmed Tete Rouge's account 25 
in every particular, 

" I wouldn't have been in that feller's place," said one 
of them, "for the biggest heap of money in Missouri." 

To Tete Rouge's great wrath they expressed a firm con- 
viction that he was crazy. We left them after giving them 30 
the advice not to trouble themselves about war-whoops 
in future, since they would be apt to feel an Indian's arrow 
before they heard his voice. 

A day or two after, we had an adventure of another sort 
with a party of wagoners. Henry and I rode forward to 35 
hunt. After that day there was no probability that we 
should meet with buffalo, and we were anxious to kill one 
for the sake of fresh meat. They were so wild that we 
hunted all the morning in vain, but at noon as we approached 
Cow creek we saw a large band feeding near its margin. 40 
Cow creek is densely lined with trees which intercept the 



330 THE OREGON TRAIL 

view beyond, and it runs, as we afterward found, at the 
bottom of a deep trench. We approached by riding along 
the bottom of a ravine. When we were near enough, I 
held the horses while Henry crept toward the buffalo. I 
5 saw him take his seat within shooting distance, prepare his 
rifle, and look about to ,select his victim. The death of a 
fat cow was certain, when suddenly a great smoke arose 
from the bed of the. creek with a rattling volley of musketry. 
A score of long-legged Missourians leaped out from among 

lo the trees and ran after the buffalo, who one and all took 
to their heels and vanished. These fellows had crawled 
up the bed of the creek to within a hundred yards of the 
buffalo. Never was there a fairer chance for a shot. They 
were good marksmen; all cracked away at once, and yet 

15 not a buffalo fell. In fact the animal is so tenacious of life 
that it requires no little knowledge of anatomy to kill it, 
and it is very seldom that a novice succeeds in his first 

. attempt at approaching. The balked Missourians were ex- 
cessively mortified, especially when Henry told them that 

20 if they had kept quiet he would have killed meat enough in 
ten minutes to feed their whole party. Our friends, who 
were at no great distance, hearing such a formidable fusil- 
lade, ° thought the Indians had fired the volley for our bene- 
fit. Shaw came galloping on to reconnoiter and learn if we 

25 were yet in the land of the living. 

At Cow creek we found the very w^elcome novelty of ripe 
grapes and plums, which grew there in abundance. At 
the little Arkansas, not much farther on, we saw the last 
buffalo, a miserable old bull, roaming over the prairie alone 

30 and melancholy. 

From this time forward the character of the country was 
changing every day. We had left behind us the great arid 
deserts, meagerly covered by the tufted buffalo grass, with 
its pale green hue, and its short shriveled blades. The 

35 plains before us were carpeted with rich and verdant herbage 
sprinkled with flowers. In place of buffalo we found plenty 
of prairie hens, and we bagged them by dozens without 
leaving the trail. In three or four days we saw before us 
the broad woods and the emerald meadows of Council 

40 grove, a scene of striking luxuriance and beauty. It seemed 
like a new sensation as we rode beneath the resounding 



THE SETTLEMENTS 331 

arches of these noble woods. The trees were ash, oak, elm, 
maple, and hickory, their mighty limbs deeply overshadow- 
ing the path, while enormous grape vines were entwined 
among them, purple with fruit. The shouts of our scat- 
tered party, and now and then a report of a rifle, rang amid 5 
the breathing stillness of the forests. We rode forth again 
with regret into the broad light of the open prairie. Little 
more than a hundred miles now separated us from the fron- 
tier settlements. The whole intervening country was a 
succession of verdant prairies, rising in broad swells and 10 
relieved by trees clustering like an oasis around some spring, 
or following the course of a stream along some fertile hollow. 
These are the prairies of the poet and the novelist. We 
had left danger behind us. Nothing was to be feared from 
the Indians of this region, the Sacs and Foxes, the Kansas 15 
and the Osages. We had met with signal good fortune. 
Although for five months we had been traveling with an 
insufficient force through a country where we were at any 
moment liable to depredation, not a single animal had been 
stolen from us, and our only loss had been one old mule 20 
bitten to death by a rattlesnake. Three weeks after we 
reached the frontier the Pawnees and the Comanches began 
a regular series of hostilities on the Arkansas trail, killing 
men and driving off horses. They attacked, without ex- 
ception, every party, large or small, that passed during the 25 
next six months. 

Diamond spring, Rock creek, Elder grove, and other 
camping places besides, were passed all in quick succession. 
At Rock creek we found a train of government provision 
wagons, under the charge of an emaciated old man in his 30 
seventy-first year. Some restless American devil had 
driven him into the wilderness at a time when he should 
have been seated at his fireside with his grandchildren on 
his knees. I am convinced that he never returned; he 
was complaining that night of a disease, the wasting effects 35 
of which upon a younger and stronger man, I myself had 
proved from severe experience. Long ere this no doubt the 
wolves have howled their moonlight carnival over the old 
man's atU auated remains. 

Not long after we came to a small trail leading to Fort 40 
Leavenworth, distant but one day's Journey. T^te Rouge 



332 THE OREGON TRAIL 

here took leave of us. He was anxious to go to the fort 
in order to receive payment for his valuable military ser- 
vices. So he and his horse James, after bidding an affec- 
tionate farewell, set out together, taking with them as 
5 much provision as they could conveniently carry, including 
a large quantity of brown sugar. On a cheerless rainy even- 
ing w^e came to our last encamping ground. Some pigs 
belonging to a Shawanoe farmer were grunting and rooting 
at the edge of the grove. 

10 "I wonder how fresh pork tastes," murmured one of 
the party, and more than one voice murmured in response. 
The fiat went forth, "That pig must die," and a rifle was 
leveled forthwith at the countenance of the plumpest porker. 
Just then a wagon train, with some twenty Missourians, 

15 came out from among the trees. The marksman suspended 
his aim, deeming it inexpedient under the circumstances to 
consummate the deed of blood. 

In the morning we made our toilet as well as circumstances 
would permit, and that is saying but very little. In spite 

20 of the dreary rain of yesterday, there never was a, brighter 
and gayer autumnal morning than that on which we re- 
turned to the settlements. \Ve were passing through the 
country of the half-civilized Shawanoes. It was a beautiful 
alternation of fertile plains and groves, whose foliage was 

25 just tinged with the hues of autumn, while close beneath 
them rested the neat log-houses of the Indian farmers. 
Every field and meadow bespoke the exuberant fertility 
of the soil. The maize stood rustling in the wind, matured 
and dry, its shining yellow ears thrust out between the gap- 

3oing husks. Squashes and enormous yellow pumpkins lay 
basking in the sun in the midst of their brown and shriveled 
leaves. Robins and blackbirds flew about the fences; and 
everything in short betokened our near approach to home 
and civilization. The forests that border on the Missouri 

35 soon rose before us, and we entered the wide tract of shrub- 
bery which forms their outskirts. We had passed the same 
road on our outward journey in the spring, but its aspect 
was totally changed. The young wild apple-trees, then 
flushed with their fragrant blossoms, were now hung thickly 

40 with ruddy fruit. Tall grass flourished by the roadside in 
place of the tender shoots just peeping from the warm and 



THE SETTLEMENTS 333 



oozy soil. The vines were laden with dark purple grapes, 
and the slender twigs of the maple, then tasseled with their 
clusters of small red flowers, now hung out a gorgeous dis- 
play of leaves stained by the frost with burning crimson. 
On every side we saw the tokens of maturity and decay 5 
where all had before been fresh and beautiful. We entered 
the forest, and ourselves and our horses were checkered, 
as we passed along, by the bright spots of sunlight that fell 
between the opening boughs. On either side the dark rich 
masses of foliage almost excluded the sun, though here and 10 
there its rays "could find their way down, striking through 
the broad leaves and lighting them with a pure transparent 
green. Squirrels barked at us from the trees; coveys of 
young partridges ran rustling over the leaves below, and the 
golden oriole, the blue jay, and the flaming red-bird darted 15 
among the shadowy branches. We hailed these sights and 
sounds of beauty by no means with an unmingled pleasure. 
Many and powerful as were the attractions which drew us 
toward the settlernents, we looked back even at that moment 
with an eager longing toward the wilderness of prairies and 20 
mountains behind us. For myself I had suffered more that 
summer from illness than ever before in my life, and yet to 
this hour I cannot recall those savage scenes and savage 
men without a strong desire again to visit them. 

At length, for the first time during about half a year, we 25 
saw the roof of a white man's dwelling between the opening 
trees. A few moments after we were riding over the mis- 
erable logbridge that leads into the center of Westport. 
Westport had beheld strange scenes, but a rougher looking 
troop than ours, with our worn equipments and broken- 30 
down horses, was never seen even there. We passed the 
well-remembered tavern, Boone's grocery and old Vogel's 
dram shop, and encamped on a meadow beyond. Here 
we were soon visited by a number of people who came to 
purchase our horses and equipage. This matter disposed 35 
of, we hired a wagon and drove on to Kansas Landing. ° 
Here we were again received under the hospitable roof of our 
old friend Colonel Chick, and seated under his porch we 
looked down once more on the eddies of the Missouri. 

Deslauriers made his appearance in the morning, strangely 40 
transformed by the assistance of a hat, a coat, and a razor. 



334 THE OREGON TRAIL 



His little log-house was among the woods not far off. It 
seemed he had meditated giving a ball on the occasion of 
his return, and had consulted Henry Chatillon as to whether 
it would do to invite his bourgeois. Henry expressed his 
5 entire conviction that we would not take it amiss, and the 
invitation was now proffered accordingly, Deslauriere adding 
as a special inducement that Antoine Lajeunesse was to 
play the fiddle. We told him we would certainly come, but 
before the evening arrived a steamboat, which came down 

lo from Fort Leavenworth, prevented our being present at the 
expected festivities. Deslauriers was on the rock at the 
landing place, waiting, to take leave of us. 

''Adieu! mes bourgeois; adieu! adieu!'' he cried out as 
the boat put off; ''when you go another time to de Rocky 

15 montagnes I will go with you; yes, I will go !" 

He accompanied this patronizing assurance by jumping 
about, swinging his hat, and grinning from ear to ear. As 
the boat rounded a distant point, the last object that met 
our eyes was Deslauriers still lifting his hat and skipping 

20 about the rock. We had taken leave of Munroe and Jim 
Gurney at Westport, and Henry Chatillon went down in the 
boat with us. 

The passage to St. Louis occupied eight days, during 
about a third of which time w^e were fast aground on sand- 

25 bars. We passed the steamer Amelia crowded with a 
roaring crew of disbanded volunteers, swearing, drinking, 
gambling, and fighting. At length one evening we reached 
the crow'ded levee of St. Louis. Repairing to the Planters' 
House, ° we caused diligent search to be made for our trunks, 

30 which after some time were discovered stowed away in the 
farthest corner of the storeroom. In the morning we hardly 
recognized each other; a frock of broadcloth had supplanted 
the frock of buck-skin; well-fitted pantaloons took the place 
of the Indian leggings, and polished boots were substituted 

35 for the gaudy moccasins. 

After we had been several days at St. Louis we heard 
news of Tete Rouge. He had contrived to reach Fort 
Leavenworth, where he had found the paymaster and re- 
ceived his money. As a boat was just ready to start for 

40 St. Louis, he went on board and engaged his passage. This 
done, he immediately got drunk on shore, and the boat 
went off without him. It was some days before another 



THE SETTLEMENTS 335 

opportunity occurred, and meanwhile the sutler's stores 
furnished him with abundant means of keeping up his 
spirits. Another steamboat came at last, the clerk of which 
happened to be a friend of his, and by the advice of some 
charitable person on shore he persuaded Tete Rouge to 5 
remain on board, intending to detain him there until the 
boat should leave the fort. At first Tete Rouge was well 
contented with this arrangement, but on applying for a dram, 
the bar-keeper, at the clerk's instigation, refused to let him 
have it. Finding them both inflexible in spite of his en- lo 
treaties, he became desperate and made his escape from the 
boat. The clerk found him after a long search in one of 
the barracks; a circle of dragoons stood contemplating him 
as he lay on the floor, maudlin drunk and crying dismally. 
With the help of one of them the clerk pushed him on board, 15 
and our informant, who came down in the same boat, de- 
clares that he remained in great despondency during the 
whole passage. As we left St. Louis soon after his arrival, 
we did not see the worthless, good-natured little vagabond 
again. 20 

On the evening before our departure Henry Chatillon 
came to our rooms at the Planters' House to take leave of 
us. No one who met him in the streets of St. Louis would 
have taken him for a hunter fresh from the Rocky moun- 
tains. He was very neatly and simply dressed in a suit of 25 
dark cloth ; for although, since his sixteenth year, he had 
scarcely been for a month together among the abodes of 
men, he had a native good taste and a sense of propriety 
which always led him to pay great attention to his personal 
appearance. His tall athletic figure, with its easy flexible 30 
motions, appeared to advantage in his present dress; and 
his fine face, though roughened by a thousand storms, 
was not at all out of keeping with it. We took leave of him 
with much regret; and unless his changing features, as he 
shook us by the hand, belied him, the feeling on his part was 35 
no less than on ours. Shaw had given him a horse at West- 
port. My rifle, which he had always been fond of using, as 
it was an excellent piece, much better than his own, is now 
in his hands, and perhaps at this moment its sharp voice is 
startling the echoes of the Rocky mountains. On the next 40 
morning we left town, and after a fortnight of railroads and 
steamboats ° we saw once more the familiar features of home. 



NOTES 

xxi : 36. American history. Good bibliographies for the 
western trails and the history of the Oregon country may 
be found in Barrows's Oregon (1883) and Mowry's Marcus 
Whitman (1901). 

1 : 2. St. Louis. The principal city of Missouri, on the 
Mississippi river, twenty miles below the mouth of the Mis- 
souri. Founded as a French trading post in 1764, it was 
made the next year the capital of Upper Louisiana. Here 
took place in 1804 the formal transfer by France to the 
United States of the Louisiana territory, which had been 
purchased by President Jefferson of Napoleon Bonaparte 
the year before. The first steamboat arrived in the city 
in 1817. In 1819 John Jacob Astor located the western 
department of his fur company here. In 1822 the town 
received a city charter; and in 1846, when Parkman 
made his trip West, it was the usual starting-place for ex- 
peditions of all kinds bound for the western plains and 
mountains. 

1 : 5. Santa Fe. An ancient Spanish town on the Rio 
Grande; near one of the passes in the Rocky mountains; 
headquarters, in the second quarter of the nineteenth cen- 
tury, of a large and lucrative overland trade between the 
California slope and the American frontier; now the capital 
of New Mexico. Originally an Indian pueblo, it is, next 
to St. Augustine, in Florida, the oldest settlement in the 
United States. 

z 337 



338 NOTES 

1 : 16. Rocky mountains. In general, all the moun- 
tains between the Great plains and the Pacific ocean; more 
particularly, the ranges of Montana, Wyoming, Colorado, 
Idaho, Utah, and New Mexico. This name, as well as the 
earlier ones, Stony and Shining mountains, appears par- 
ticularly appropriate to the lofty elevations of this region, 
upon which naked rocks appear to an extent rarely known 
elsewhere on the globe. 

1 : 18. wagons. These " large wagons of a peculiar 
form, for the Santa Fe trade" were very different from the 
prairie schooners of the emigrants. In Chapter XXVI 
Parkman mentions them as "the close, black carriages in 
which the traders travel and sleep," and in another place 
as " the rakish vehicles of the Santa Fe traders." 

2:5. mountain-men. A well-defined class of back- 
woodsmen, mostly Americans and Indian half-breeds, 
skilful in the use of the rifle and in Indian warfare, and 
versed in everything pertaining to life upon the plains and 
in the mountains; a different class of men from the voya- 
geurs, mostly French-Canadians, who were employed by the 
fur companies in transporting goods by the rivers and 
across the land to and from the remote stations of the 
North and Northwest. 

2 : 27. abatis. A structure for defence formed of 
felled trees, so placed that the ends of their branches, sharp- 
ened and directed outward, form a barrier bristling with 
points. 

2 : 32. great western movement. See Introduction, The 
Oregon Trail, p. xx. 

3 :21. Westport. In the 40's Westport and Independ- 
ence were both places of much importance in fitting out 
expeditions for the Oregon country. On the maps of that 
period distances by the various trails across the prairies 



NOTES 339 

are computed " from Westport." The place still receives 
a line in the gazetteers; but it has disappeared from the 
maps, while Independence flourishes as never in the emi- 
grant days. 

5 : 26. regeneration. The act of being born again; the 
change of heart by which holy affections and purposes are 
substituted for evil ones. 

6 : 34. camp-meetings. Religious gatherings in retired 
places, for open-air preaching and exhortations. 

7 : 15. course of the traders. That is, northwest from 
Westport, by the usual route, of the traders and emigrants. 
See Introduction, The Oregon Trail, and map. 

7 : 17. marked out by the dragoons. The course marked 
out by Colonel Kearny and his dragoons in their expedition 
to Fort Laramie in the summer of 1845 led directly across the 
prairie westward from Fort Leavenworth to an intersection 
with the regular Oregon trail near the point where the latter 
crossed the Big Blue. 

7 : 31. Daniel Boone. A famous American pioneer and 
hunter, 1735-1820. Emigrating from Pennsylvania, the 
state of his birth, to North Carolina, at the age of eighteen, 
he subsequently explored a great part of what is now the 
state of Kentucky. In 1775 he founded upon the Kentucky 
river a settlement which he named Boonesborough. Re- 
peatedly captured by Indians, from whom he as often es- 
caped, he removed in 1795 to a place 45 miles west of St. 
Louis, Missouri, where he found a new field for his favorite 
pursuits. 

9 : 14. holsters. Leather cases for his pistols, carried 
by a horseman, at the bow of his saddle. 

9 : 29. patois. A dialect used by the illiterate classes. 

9 : 30. "Sacre enfant de garce!" An imprecation more 
forcible than elegant. 



340 NOTES 

10 : 2. Jean Baptiste. A soubriquet for the French 
Canadians. Compare John Bull, Uncle Sam, and Brother 
Jonathan. 

10 : 4. bourgeois. Head man — master, employer, boss, 
as the ca«e mcy be. 

10 : 9. fur company. Since the chartering of the Hud- 
son Bay company in 1670 there had been a number of great 
fur companies trading in the Northwest — the American 
fur company, the Pacific fur company, the Northwest fur 
company, and others. The association here referred to, 
with headquarters in St. Louis, was called the Rocky Moun- 
tain fur company. The subject of the fur companies is a 
large and interesting one. 

11 : 15. lope. A gait consisting of' long, running strides 
or leaps, by which a good deal of ground is covered with 
comparatively little fatigue. 

11:20. lodges. Rude dwellings of Indians — sometimes 
tents, circular or rectangular, made of skins stretched upon 
poles; sometimes huts constructed of logs or other materials, 
according to the tribe to which the occupants belong. 

12:21. village. Sometimes, as here, the collection of 
lodges in which the Indians of a community dwell; but 
frequently the community itself, whether the Indians are 
housed in their lodges or travelling with all their parapher- 
nalia. 

13 : 16. rifle. A gun the surface of whose bore is grooved 
spirally, to increase the accuracy and pentrating force of its 
fire, by imparting a swiftly rotary motion to its projectile. 
By game " appropriate to the rifle" our author means game 
big enough to call for a bullet to despatch it. About the 
time that Parkman was gunning out West, the breech-load- 
ing type of rifle was supplanting the muzzle-loading type for 
sportsmen as well as for soldiers. 



NOTES 341 

13 : 37. hobbled. Hoppled; having the legs tied together. 

15 : 37. tree. Piece of wood. 

16:14. Penn, William (1644-1718). Founder of the 
colony of Pennsylvania. 

18 : 7. rumors of war. General Taylor, leaving Corpus 
Christi under orders from Washington, had arrived at 
Matamoras, on the Rio Grande, on March 28, exactly a 
month before Parkman began his journey at St. Louis. It 
was now May. 

18 : 14. expedition against Santa Fe. War having 
broken out between Mexico and America as a result of the 
annexation of the independent state of Texas by the north- 
ern republic, General Stephen Watts Kearny, then in com- 
mand of the Army of the West, marched from Bent's fort 
on the Arkansas, capturing Santa F6 August 18, 1846, and 
establishing there a provisional civil government. 

20 : 13. John Milton (1608-1674). An English writer 
often regarded as second in importance only to Shakespeare. 
His principal work. Paradise Lost, is the grandest poem 
in English. The possession of a set of his w^orks might well 
be taken as an evidence of the culture that is usually found 
only in old and settled communities. 

20 : 20. Creole. A native of the Louisiana country, of 
mixed descent. 

21 : 1. John Bull. A nickname for the Englishman. 
21 : 12. sixteen-to-the-pound caliber. The caliber or 

bore of a rifle is measured by the number to the pound of the 
bullets that it takes; the smaller the number of bullets 
to the pound, the larger the caliber. 

21 : 15. " Avance, done!" " Go on, now! " 
21:21. Blackstone's Commentaries. Commentaries on 
the Laws of England, 1765-1769, by Sir William Blackstone, 
a distinguished English jurist, and Vinerian professor of law 



342 NOTES 

at Oxford university; a treatise which, on account of its 
methodical plan and perspicuous style, continues to be, in 
both England and America, the first text-book placed in the 
hands of the student of law. " Bidding adieu to the princi- 
ples of Blackstone's Commentaries" was leaving behind 
that part of the country in which the common law of Eng- 
land was recognized as the foundation of the social order. 

22 : 11. Mazeppa, John. An attache of the court of 
John Casimir of Poland, who, surprised in an adventure with 
a Polish lady, was stripped by her husband and bound back 
to back on his half-wild horse. The frightened animal, 
loosed after having been lashed to a frenzy, bore its owner 
at break-neck speed to his ow^n castle; but Mazeppa fled 
for shame to the Ukraine and joined the Cossacks. The 
incident was made, by Lord Byron, the subject of a poem, 
Mazeppa (1818). 

24 : 23. charger. A horse for battle or parade. What 
element of style is introduced by the use of this word for a 
homesick horse? 

31 : 5. Mormons, or Latter Day Saints, as they call 
themselves, a religious sect founded in Manchester, N.Y., in 
1830, by Joseph Smith. In 1831 he led his congregation of 
thirty members to Kirtland, O., where during the next 
seven years the organization rapidly increased. They did 
not get on with the " gentiles" well, and were now looking 
for a new wilderness in which to settle. 

31 : 26. Gentiles. A term applied by the Mormons to all 
who do not believe in their religion. 

37:29. '' Voulez-vous. . . . charette." "Will you have 
supper at once? I can make a fire, under the cart." 

40 : 40. Dublin. The political and social capital of 
Ireland, to possess " paternal halls" near which must, pre- 
sumably, enhance the importance of any Irish gentleman^ 



NOTES 343 

42 : 2. Bond street. A fashionable business thoroughfare 
in London. 

42 : 24. Macaulay's Lays. A collection of ballads called 
Lays of Ancient Rome, by Lord Macaulay, published in 
1842, of which countless editions have been issued in 
England and America. 

42 : 29. Damascus. A famous city of Syria in Asiatic 
Turkey, in the 40's quite out of the beaten path of the 
tourist. R. wished the company to know that he was a 
great traveller. 

42:31. Eothen. A work of Eastern travel, that ap- 
peared in 1844, written by Alexander W. Kinglake (1811- 
1891), an English lawyer and historian. Composed in a 
graphic and poetic vein, yet with great truthfulness to 
nature, the book was widely read at the time of its publica- 
tion, and has always remained one of the most popular 
works of English travel. 

43 :5. Borrow, George (1803-1881). An English adven- 
turer, who lived several years with the gypsies, but who 
in 1833 became agent of the London Bible society, and for 
some years travelled as such in Russia, Spain, and Morocco, 
About 1840 he settled at Oulton, on the Norfolk Broads, and 
took to writing. His Bible in Spain (1843) had made him 
prominent at the time that Parkman was making his 
Western journey. 

43 : 9. Judge Story, Joseph (1779-1845). An eminent 
American jurist. In 1801 , as a member of the Massachusetts 
legislature, he defended President Jefferson's proclamation 
of an embargo as the only measure, short of war, by which 
American commerce could be protected from the restric- 
tions of the European powers; and in 1808, as a representa- 
tive in Congress from that state, he urged the repeal of 
the Embargo act, on the ground that it was a temporary 



344 NOTES 

measure the purpose of which had now been attained. In 
1811 he was appointed associate justice of the Supreme 
Court of the United States, and in 1829 was made Dane pro- 
fessor of law in Harvard university. His fame rests mainly 
upon his decisions and upon his Commentaries, which are 
well known in Great Britain. 

43 : 28. Snob. One who is servile to those occupying a 
position in any way superior to his own, and overbearing 
to those in any way beneath him. 

44 : 19. lariettes. Lassos. 

44 : 29. penthouse. A building the roof of which, be- 
cause it is attached to a larger structure, slopes all in one 
direction. 

44 : 39. Hibernian cavalier. Here, a person who makes 
himself ludicrous by assuming an air of military importance, 
while the work upon which he is engaged is but trifling. 

46 : 15. brattling. A strong form of rattling. 

46 : 25. Mahomet and the refractory mountain. A refer- 
ence to the story that when Mahomet, having undertaken to 
prove to his followers that he possessed supernatural powers, 
found himself unable to move a certain mountain by calling 
upon it to come to him, rose to the occasion with the declara- 
tion that if the mountain would not come to him he would go 
to the mountain; and that he went. 

47 : 4. old legitimate trail. The trail pursued by the 
great majority of the emigrants to Oregon led from the cross- 
ing of the Kansas, a little west of Westport, northwest over 
the prairie and across the Big Blue ; the St. Joseph trail, 
starting at that settlement, which was due north of West- 
port, and proceeding due west across the prairie, did not 
strike the "old legitimate trail" till after it crossed the 
same river. R., by leading his party from the crossing of 
the Kansas due north till they struck the St. Joseph trail at 



NOTES 345 

right angles and then by following it to its Junction with the 
usual road, demonstrated to the entire satisfaction of his 
companions that the two sides of a right-angled triangle are 
longer than is the hypothenuse. 

48 : 33. Oregon or California. In 1846 the number of 
emigrants from the East to California was small in compari- 
son with the number to Oregon. The overland route to 
both regions was the same from Missouri, up the Platte and 
the Sweetwater and through the South pass in the Rocky 
mountains. Shortly after crossing the watershed, usually 
at Fort Hall, the Californians branched off to the south- 
west to descend the Green and the Colorado, while the 
Oregonians bore ofi" to the northwest, down the Lewis and 
the Columbia. 

52 : 13. Oui, oui, monsieur. Yes, yes, sir. 

53 : 1. dank. Wet and cold. 

53 : 5. champing. Biting off with a quick movement of 
the head. 

55 :21. valley of the Platte. The Oregon trail, passing 
across country from the Kansas where that river approaches 
nearest to the Platte, strikes the Platte a few miles below 
the upper end of Grand Isle, below which point the river is 
called the Lower Platte and above it the Upper. 

56 : 6. sandy plain. A striking picture of the topography 
of the Platte country is presented by the relief map of Ne- 
braska in the Rand-McNally Indexed Atlas of the World. 
The entire journey of Parkman, northwest from West- 
port, across country to the Platte and up that river to Fort 
Laramie; in various directions about the Laramie plains; 
southward from Fort Laramie, across country to Bent's fort; 
and eastward from Bent's fort, down the Arkansas and the 
Kansas to Westport again — the whole forming an immense 
right-angled triangle, resting on its longer side — may be 



traced on the relief maps of Missouri, Kansas, Nebraska, 
Wyoming, and Colorado. 
56 : 38. cincture. Belt; girdle. 

58 : 30. cap6tes. Long overcoats with hoods. 

59 : 4. bois de vache. Literally, wood of cow; dry 
buffalo dung, which was burned for fuel on the prairies, as 
dry camel dung is burned on the desert. 

59 : 17. buttes. High elevations of earth or stone rising 
abruptly from the level of surrounding plains. The term, 
of French origin, is prevalent in the region west of the 
Mississippi. 

59:21. tall white wagons. The emigrant wagons, 
called prairie schooners, were large, four-wheeled ox- 
wagons, with capacious tops of canvas stretched over im- 
mense hoop-like supports and gathered at the front and 
rear around circular openings, through which the occupants 
could peer as the vehicles were dragged slowly along. 
Each wagon would hold a whole family, with their 
belongings. 

61 : 1. prickly-pears. Plants of the cactus family, 
reptile-like because they pricked the hand that touched 
them. 

63 : 18. 'running' is out of the question. The method of 
hunting called '' running" consists in attacking the buffalo 
on horseback and shooting him with bullets or arrows when 
at full speed. In " approaching," the hunter conceals him- 
self and crawls on the ground toward the game, or lies in 
wait to kill them. 

64 : 19. mountain -men. See note to page 2, line 5. 

65 : 17. ebullition. Boiling over; outburst. 

68 : 3. snaffle. A slender bit, with a joint in the part 
to be placed in the mouth. 

68 : 12. scuttling. Hurrying with ludicrous efforts. 



NOTES 347 

72 : 35. pioneers. In 1769 Daniel Boone, a resident of 
North Carolina, headed a party of six for the exploration of 
the region watered by the 'Kentucky river and its tributa- 
ries. In 1773 he and his younger brother, Squire, set out for 
Kentucky with their famihes, and were joined on the way 
by five other families and forty men; but it was not till 
1775 that they were able to locate at Boonesborough a 
stockade fort which Boone and his companions had erected 
on the bank of the Kentucky. His wife and daughters 
were the first white women that ever stood on the banks of 
that river. 

76 : 5. German forests. The division of the Roman do- 
minion upon the death of Theodosius in 395 between his 
two sons, Honorius ruling at Milan, and Arcadius at Con- 
stantinople, was but the prelude to the further dismem- 
berment of the empire by the Germanic invaders who 
poured in from the forests of the north. In 410 Rome was 
sacked by the Visigoths, who founded a permanent king- 
dom in southern France and Spain; and in 455 by the Van- 
dals, who took possession of Africa, while the Burgundians 
occupied the valley of the Rhone. The sovereignty of the 
empire at Constantinople was nominally recognized in the 
West till 476, when Odoacer deposed the last emperor and 
ruled Italy as a German king. 

80 : 32. Scott's bluff. The story of the pathetic incident 
from which this hill was named is told in Irving's Astoria. 

82 : 3. pommel and cantle. The upward projections at 
the bow and rear of a saddle. 

82 : 6. girths. Straps under the belly by which saddles 
are fastened upon the backs of horses. 

83 : 20. Macbeth's witches. The three witches who, 
in Shakespeare's Macbeth, first suggest to the hero of that 
tragedy that by murdering the king of Scotland he may 



348 NOTES 

himself obtain the crown, are always so hideously made up 
for the stage that they are mentioned by our author as the 
personification of ugliness. 

84 : 37. Black hills. In 1846 the name Black hills was 
not restricted to the oval group, of low mountains lying 
chiefly in South Dakota but partly in Wyoming, but in- 
cluded several ranges extending in general in a southerly 
direction from these, and marking the eastern limits 
of the Rocky mountains in what are now the states of 
Wyoming and Colorado. 

86 : 23. shongsasha. Red willow bark dried. 

89 : 8. bedizened. Having many tawdry ornaments upon 
the dress. 

89 : 11. engages. Employees. 

89 : 16. not traders. The jealousies of the fur companies, 
fierce and unending, were espoused by all their employees. 

91 : 2. palisade. A close fence of sharp stakes for defence. 

91 : 4. banquette. Raised way. 

94 : 26. Catlin, George (1796-1872). An American trav- 
eller and artist, who, abandoning law, set up at Philadelphia 
as a portrait- painter, and in 1832 began a study of the Ameri- 
can Indians which later gave to the National museum at 
Washington a gallery of 500 portraits from life. His North 
American Portfolio, like his later works finely illustrated, 
was published in 1844. 

97 : 17. Monterey and Buena Vista. Cities of Mexico 
from which are named two American victories in the war 
with that country in which the volunteers effectively sup- 
ported the regulars. 

100 : 24. Spanish flies. Brilliant green beetles common in 
southern Europe, applications of which, dried and powdered, 
are used for raising blisters. 

104 : 24. Rio Grande. The river that forms the boundary 



NOTES 349 

between Texas and Mexico, The disorder referred to is 
dysentery, an epidemic akin to cholera and much dreaded in 
the army, where its presence inevitably proves very destruc- 
tive. Severe cases are not much benefited by treatment, 
and mild cases are apt to assume a chronic form, which 
may prove fatal. 

105 : 28. absanth. Wormwood, a very bitter herb. 

107 : 37. par' fl^che. Rawhide. 

109 : 7. Chugwater. A stream flowing north into Lara- 
mie creek. 

110 : 16. Capuchin friar. A Franciscan monk, dis- 
tinguished from members of other orders by wearing the 
long, pointed cowl of St. Francis. 

110 : 26. Irving's Astoria. An account, by Washington 
Irving, of the famous attempt of John Jacob Astor, a New 
York fur merchant, to establish at the mouth of the Co- 
lurnbia river, in 1811, a trading post from which to handle 
the fur trade of the Northwest. 

114 : 29. Fort Pierre. On the west bank of the Missouri, 
nearly opposite the point where Pierre, the capital of South 
Dakota, is now situated. 

126 : 27. King Philip, Pontiac, and Tecumseh. Indian 
chiefs who at different times attempted unsuccessfully to 
lead their forces through extended campaigns against the 
whites. Philip, sachem of the Pokanokets, in Massachusetts, 
who, in 1675 headed the great war known by his name, was 
killed at Mount Hope August 12, 1676, after his tribe had 
been nearly annihilated. Pontiac, chief of the Ottawas, 
near the river of that name, who, after the English in 1760 
had displaced the French in the Northwest, organized a con- 
spiracy among the various Indian tribes with the purpose 
of murdering the English garrisons at all points, and who 
showed a high degree of generalship in carrying on his 



350 NOTES 

campaign against the whites, especially in a five-months' 
siege of Detroit, was finally deserted by his followers and in 
1766 was obliged to submit to British rule. Tecumseh, a 
celebrated chief of the Shawnees, in Ohio, who about 1805 
attempted to organize all the Western Indians in a con- 
federacy against the whites, was unable to hold them to- 
gether after the defeat of a considerable force of them, un- 
der his brother at Tippecanoe, by General Harrison, in 1811. 

129 : 17. Semper paratus. Always prepared. 

130 : 22. Le Borgne. The One-eyed. 
134 : 10. Meneaska. White man. 

136 : 38. Salvator Rosa (1615-1673). An Italian artist 
whose best works, delineations of nature in her roughness 
and desolation, with accessories of savage or ascetic life, 
are remarkable for their wildness, loneliness, and gloom. 

137 : 18. West. Benjamin West (1738-1820), an Ameri- 
can artist who, having gained a considerable reputation 
in Philadelphia and New York, chiefly as a painter of por- 
traits, went in 1760 to Italy, where he visited the chief art 
capitals, painting several important pictures at Rome. The 
Vatican, in that city, the principal residence of the head of 
the Roman Catholic church, and the most magnificent palace 
in Christendom, contains the finest existing collection of 
objects of art, among them the famous marble statue of 
Apollo discovered at Antium about 1503, and known by the 
name of the gallery (Belvedere) in which it was placed. 
This statue, which represents the god at the moment of his 
victory over the python, is considered the most perfect 
model of manly beauty. 

147 : 4. Leather stocking. A soubriquet given to Nathan- 
iel Bumpo, a skilful backwoodsman in Cooper's series of 
novels called the Leatherstocking Tales. 

150 : 8. Mount Laramie. Laramie peak, the highest 



NOTES 351 

point in the Laramie range of the Rocky mountains, which 
bounds the Laramie plains on the east. 

150:41. Sacre. A favorite imprecation among the 
French frontiersmen. 

159 : 6. locust. In the United States the harvest-fly is 
improperly called a locust. 

163:10. genius loci. Spirit of the place. 

163:21. Frascati's. A well-known high-class restaurant 
in Oxford street, London. 

163 : 21. Trois Frferes Provengaux is a celebrated restau- 
rant in Paris, the income from which is said to have been 
greatly increased through the curiosity of the public to see a 
swallow painted upon the ceiling by an artist to conceal a 
bad spot made by the cork of his champagne bottle. 

163 : 24. Tom Crawford. Thomas J. Crawford, a mem- 
ber of the well-known family who for years were the only 
ones' to entertain travellers to the White mountains, and 
in the '40's the most famous of all the proprietors of the 
Crawford house, built by his father and an elder brother, at 
the head of the Crawford Notch. The whole Crawford 
family were remarkable for their size and strength. All 
the bridle-paths on the western side of the mountains were 
made by them, and for many years they were the only 
guides who dared to conduct visitors to the summit. 

178 : 33. Et haec. " And perhaps even it will please you 
to remember this" — a quotation from Vergil's Aeneid. 

181 : 3. Taos. An old Mexican town about fifty miles 
north of Santa Fe, of considerable importance in the '40's. 

196 : 23. Sancho Panza. The squire of Don Quixote, 
in the famous novel of that name by Cervantes, — a short, 
pot-bellied peasant, with small legs, whom the other guests 
at an inn tossed in a blanket because, following the example 
of his illustrious master, he refused to pay his reckoning. 



352 NOTES 

For the complete account of the amusing incident referred 
to, ^■ce the chapter of Don Quixote, In Which are Contained 
the Innumerable Troubles Which the brave Don Quixote 
and his Good Squire Sancho Panza endured in the Inn 
Which to his Misfortune he took to be a Castle. 

197 : 15. Fremont's Expedition. Report of the exploring 
expedition to the Rocky Mountains in the year 1842, and to 
Oregon and North California in the year 1843-1844, by 
Brevet Captain J. C. Fremont, of the topographical engineers, 
under the orders of Colonel J. J. Abert, Chief of the Topo- 
graphical Bureau. Printed by order of the Senate of the 
United States. Washington, Gales, and Seaton, printers, 
1845, 695 pp. ; plates, maps. Parkman's route corresponded 
very closely with that taken by the Pathfinder in 1842. 

200 : 31. General Kearny's army. As told in the second 
paragraph of Chapter XVI. 

207 : 18. Bent's fort. A post of Bent and St. Vrain's trad- 
ing company, well known in the '40 's and, like St. Vrain's 
fort, one hundred and seventy-five miles northwest of it, 
shown on all the maps of the period, on the Upper Arkansas, 
about seventy-five miles below Pueblo. Captain Fremont, 
in his account of his second expedition across the plains, says 
that, finding himself short of supplies at the mouth of the 
river Fontainequibouit in "July, 1843, he despatched Kit 
Carson, who had accompanied him on his first expedition 
and whom, fortunately, he now found at Pueblo, a short dis- 
tance above that river on the Arkansas, " to Mr. Charles Bent, 
whose principal post is on the Arkansas river about seventy- 
five miles below Fontaine-qui-Bouit," for additional animals. 

208 : 2. howitzer. A short, light, large-bore cannon. 
210 : 29. basilisk. Having the power of the basilisk, a 

fabulous serpent, whose breath and even whose look was 
believed to be fatal. 



NOTES 353 

212 : 5. " if . . . laughter." From Goldsmith's Vicar of 
Wakefield. 

216 : 31. beetling. Overhanging. 

217 : 36. assented. This word is here used incorrectly; 
it should be consented. 

234 : 11, nom de guerre. War-name; pseudonym. 

236 : 12. St. Peter's. The cathedral of St. Peter in Rome, 
the most famous ecclesiastical edifice in the world, the vast 
plaza in front of which, half surrounded by the curving col- 
onnades that extend from each side of the majestic pile, is 
packed with humanity whenever, as on the occasion men- 
tioned in the text, any great religious festival is celebrated 
within. 

236 : 16. Mount Etna. In the island of Sicily, the 
largest active volcano in Europe. 

236 : 20. Passionist convent. The Passionists are an 
order of monks founded in 1720. Pope Clement XIV. be- 
stowed upon them the church of Saints John and Paul, on 
the Cselian hill, in Rome. 

236 : 24. melancholy Coliseum. A gigantic ruin in 
Rome, the greatest amphitheatre ever erected by Roman 
magnificence, capable of holding 100,000 spectators. De- 
signed to furnish a place for amusements for the Roman 
populace, it was dedicated with shows in which 5000 ani- 
mals were killed. It witnessed innumerable gladiatorial 
combats and fights with wild beasts, and was the scene of 
the martyrdom of a number of early Christians. 

236 : 25. Eternal city. Rome. " When falls the Coli- 
seum, Rome shall fall, and when Rome falls, the world." 

236 : 26. glaciers of the Spliigen. Though known to 

the Romans, the Spliigen pass, from the Rhine valley of the 

Swiss canton of Grisons, through the Alps, at an elevation 

of nearly 7000 feet, to the valleys of Lombardy, was of a 

2a 



354 NOTES 

dangerous character on account of frequent heavy ava- 
lanches from the melting glaciers above, until the construc- 
tion by the Austrian government, in 1812-1834, of a road 24 
miles long and 14 J feet wide throughout, and passing in 
many places through galleries of solid masonry erected for 
the protection of travellers against the avalanches. 

236 : 28. birthplace of the Rhine. The Rhine, one of the 
most important rivers of Europe, is formed by the union 
at Reichenau, in the canton of Orisons, in the Swiss Alps, of 
the Nearer and the Farther Rhine, which are fed by a large 
number of rivulets issuing from glaciers more than 7000 
feet above sea-level, and flowing through a region of great 
natural interest. 

236 : 30. valley of Andeer. The whole canton of Ori- 
sons is an assemblage of mountains intersected by narrow 
valleys, the most important of which lie along the course 
of the Rhine. Andeer, in the valley that takes its name from 
the town, is probably no larger now, with its population of 
583, than it was when Parkman visited it in the '40's. 

241 : 3. Scott, Sir Walter (1771-1832). A Scottish writer, 
author of the Waverley novels and of many famous poems, 
whose powers of description in both prose and verse have 
rarely been equalled. 

245 : 27. dishabille. Undress; negligent dress. 

245 : 39. Shakspere, William (1564-1616). Acknowl- 
edged as the world's greatest writer. " There is nothing 
within the compass of poetry in which he has not either 
achieved supremacy or shown that supremacy lay within 
his power; there is no situation of human fortune or emo- 
tion of the human bosom for which he has not the right 
word; if he cannot be described as of imagination all com- 
pact, it is only because his observation is still more extraordi- 
nary. His art is as consummate as his genius, and save 



NOTES 355 

when he wrote or planned in haste, impeccable." — Garnet 
and Gosse, History of English Literature. Shakespeare's 
best-known works are his plays. 

245 : 39. Byron, Lord George Gordon Noel (1788- 
1823), An English poet of great versatility and power, whose 
popularity in Parkman's time was far greater than it is now. 
In this connection it is of interest to note that of the twenty- 
eight quotations with which the twenty-seven chapters of The 
Oregon Trail are embellished in the edition of 1849, one each 
was from Shelley, Dryden, Macaulay, Goldsmith, Butler, 
and an unknown writer; four each were from Bryant, 
Shakespeare, and Scott ; and no fewer than nine from 
Byron. 

246 : 1. worst of the three. Parkman's characterization 
of B5rron in the lines that follow is Just, as well as severe. 

248 : 39. Mr. Mackenzie, Donald (1783-1851). A Ca- 
nadian fur trader who, having been employed for several 
years in the service of the Northwestern company, became 
in 1809 a partner of John Jacob Astor in his project for 
establishing a trade in furs west of the Rocky mountains.' 
Crossing the continent with Mr. Astor's overland party, a 
Journey of much difficulty and danger, he remained at As- 
toria, at the mouth of the Columbia river, until the surrender 
of that post to the British in 1814. Then, having sold out 
his share of the enterprise, he again traversed the wilderness 
to the Mississippi and on to New York. In 1821 he entered 
the service of the Hudson Bay company, and was at once 
commissioned chief factor. In 1832, having amassed a 
fortune, he returned to the United States; and, when he 
was consulted by Parkman on the eve of the historian's 
Journey to the mountains, was residing, at the age of sixty- 
two, at Mayville, N.Y., — one of the best living authorities 
on matters pertaining to the Indian countries. 



356 NOTES 

248 : 40. Captain Wyeth. Nathaniel J. Wyeth, of Bos- 
ton, who had led several large parties of traders over the 
Oregon trail. See Introduction, p. xix. 

249 : 28. biped. An animal having two feet. 

250 : 35. apocryphal. False; from Apocrypha, the name 
given to a collection of books included in the Bible by some 
bodies of Christians, but the validity of which is disputed by 
others 

251 : 8. Goche's Hole. The name hole was applied by the 
frontiersmen to any deep basin among the hills. 

252 : 41. Pueblo. An old Indian town on the Upper 
Arkansas about seventy-five miles above Bent's fort — now 
the most important railroad centre in Colorado, after Den- 
ver. 

254 : 31. General Kearny's march. Up the Arkansas, in 
his expedition against Santa Fe. 

254 : 32. General Taylor's victories at Matamoras. Gen- 
eral Zachary Taylor, then in €ommand on the Arkansas 
frontier, having been instructed by the secretary of war to 
defend the recently annexed territory of Texas from " for- 
eign invasion and Indian incursions," proceeded in March, 
1846, to the banks of the Rio Grande, where he established 
himself at Fort Brown, opposite the Mexican town of Mata- 
moras. Returning thither from an expedition to strengthen 
the defences of his depot of supplies at Point Isabel, twenty- 
five miles to the east, he was attacked on May 8 at Palo Alto 
(tall woods) eight miles from Matamoras by a force of 6000 
Mexicans who had crossed the river in his absence, and who, 
after five hours of fighting, were driven back with a loss of 
about 100 men, while the American loss was 4 killed and 
40 wounded. The Mexicans took up a position at Resaca 
de la Palma (ravine of the palm), three miles from Mata- 
moras, to resist the further advance of the Americans; but 



NOTES 357 

on May 9 they were routed after a short conflict and were 
driven across the river. On May 18 Matamoras was oc- 
cupied by General Taylor without resistance. 

254 : 36. California. It must be remembered that the 
state of California was not admitted to the Union until 1850. 

255 : 6. ponchos. Garments worn by Spanish-Ameri- 
cans, having the shape of a blanket and with a slit for the 
head to pass through. 

255:41. Paganini. Nicolo Paganini (1784-1840), a 
gifted and eccentric Italian musician who, between 1818 
and 1834, created wild excitement in the capitals of Italy, 
Germany, France, and England by performing phenomenal 
feats upon the violin, notably that of playing a military 
" sonata " entitled "Napoleon" upon a single string. The 
effects that he was able to produce from his instrument are 
said to have been at once startling and unearthly. 

259 : 28. Long's peak. One of the highest peaks of the 
Rocky mountains, in Colorado, about 48 miles northwest of 
Denver; named in honor of Colonel Stephen H. Long, who 
was for several years in charge of government surveys in 
the Mississippi valley. 

259 : 41. Scylla and Chary bdis. The first a promontory 
of southern Italy, at the entrance of the strait which 
divides the mainland from the island of Sicily, and regarded 
by the ancients as especially dangerous to sailors; the 
second a whirlpool opposite the entrance to the harbor of 
Messina in that island, and dangerous even to vessels of the 
present time. 

260 : 36. St. Patrick. Patron saint of Ireland; said to 
have exterminated the snakes in that island. 

261 : 19. M. St. Vrain. St. Vrain's fort, one of the posts 
of Bent and St. Vrain's trading company, was occupied as 
late as July, 1843, when Captain John C. Fr6mont visited it on 



358 NOTES 

his second expedition across the Western plains. " This 
fort," says Captain Fremont in his history of the expedition, 
" is situated on the South forke of the Platte, immediately 
under the mountains, about seventeen miles east of Long's 
peak. . . . At the fort we found Mr. St. Vrain, who received 
us with much kindness and hospitality. Maxwell [see 
note on " Maxwell the trader," p. 271] had spent the last 
two or three years between this fort and the village of Taos; 
and here he w^as at home and among his friends," 

262 : 29. Pike's peak. A summit of the Rocky moun- 
tains in Colorado, over 14,000 feet in height above the sea, 
and named in honor of General Zebulon M. Pike, who dis- 
covered it in 1806. The summit, a nearly level expanse of 
some forty acres, affords one of the grandest views on the 
North American continent. 

263:21. Des sauvages! The savages! 

264 : 7. Childe Harold. The most popular of Lord 
Byron's poems, depicting the wanderings of its misanthropic 
author through Europe and the East, abounds in descriptive 
passages of surpassing power. 

264 : 37. Naples. A city on the west coast of Italy, the 
beauty of whose sky and bay as seen from the heights above 
the town have been celebrated by ancient and modern 
writers and by innumerable painters. Around the precipi- 
tous shores of Capri, an island at the mouth of the bay, the 
water, fifty feet deep, is of a transparent blue. 

267 : 3. Turkish fashion. Cross-legged, on the floor. 

267 : 6. march against Santa Fe. At that moment Gen- 
eral Kearny was in command of the city, having captured 
it two days before — August 18, 1846. 

267 : 10. Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma. See note 
on General Taylor's victories, on p. 356. 

269 : 22. Nauvoo. A city founded on the west bank of 



NOTES 359 

the Mississippi river, in Illinois, by the Mormons in 1840, 
after their expulsion from Ohio on account of their offen- 
sive religious practices. The temple that they erected 
there of polished limestone was a low elliptical structure 
130 feet long and 90 feet wide, with dome-shaped roof. 
They were obliged to abandon it when, as the result of the 
repeal of their charter by the state legislature in 1845, and 
of trouble with the surrounding people, they were obliged 
to move on to Iowa. 

270 : 40. The proprietors. Messrs. Bent and St. Vrain. 

271 : 14. rowel. The wheel of a spur, with sharp points 
upon the circumference. 

271 : 30. yager. A rifle formerly carried by light in- 
fantry and now superseded by guns of a more effective type. 

273 : 12. mint juleps. A beverage composed of spirits 
and water with ice and mint. 

273": 25. Tete Rouge. Red Head. 

274 : 6. Vera Cruz. A seaport town of Mexico, on the 
southwest shore of the Gulf of Mexico, and about eight 
hundred miles from New Orleans. 

274 : 21. calomel. A compound of mercury and chlorine 
formerly much used as a medicine. 

276 : 32. contumacious. Stubborn. 

283 : 28. Maxwell the trader. L. Maxwell, of Kaskaskia, 
accompanied Captain John C. Fremont as hunter on his 
famous expeditions up the Platte to the South pass in 1842 
and 1843-1844. In his account of the expedition of 1842 
Captain Fremont relates how the leader of a band of two or 
three hundred Arapahoes that had suddenly descended upon 
a small detachrnent of his force was on the point of being 
picked off by Maxwell, when he recognized the savage as an 
Indian in whose village he " had resided as a trader a year 
or two previously," and " shouted to him in the Indian 



360 NOTES 

language, ' You're a fool, don't you know me?' " whereupon 
the Indian, startled at the unexpected sound of his own 
language from a white man, swerved his horse a little and 
passed like an arrow. Then, riding up to Captain P'remont, 
he gave him his hand, striking his breast, and exclaiming 
" Arapaho! " 

287 : 32. asseverations. Emphatic assertions. 

290 : 20. Kit Carson. Christopher Carson (1809-1868), 
an American frontiersman who had spent eight years as 
hunter for Bent's fort, had served as guide for Fremont in 
his Rocky mountain explorations, made shortly before 
Parkman crossed the plains. He was an officer in the gov- 
ernment service in the Mexican and Civil wars, and was 
instrumental in bringing about many treaties with the 
Indians. 

291 : 40. canteen. A vessel used by soldiers for holding 
drink. 

292:33. '^Oui . . . fusil." "Yes, well loaded; you'll 
kill, my boss; yes, you'll kill — it is a good gun." 

301 : 25. rannel. A rivulet. 

303 : 41. Nelson, Lord Horatio (1758-1805). '' The great- 
est naval hero that England ever produced," admiral of the 
British fleet which in the battle of Trafalgar near the Straits 
of Gibraltar gained a notable victory over the combined 
fleets of France and Spain. His own ship, the Victory, 
broke the line of the enemy, but not before Nelson had been 
mortally wounded. He lived long enough to know that 
twenty of the enemy's ships had struck their colors, his 
last words being, " Don't give up the ship!" 

305 : 4. Eton. A famous English public school, 
founded by Henry IV. in 1440, in which the course of in- 
struction has always been mainly classical. 

305 : 5. Porsoii, Richard (1759-1808). ''One of the best 



NOTES 361 

Greek scholars and critics of his age," professor of Greek 
at Cambridge university. 

305 : 7. Chesterfield, Lord Philip Dormer Stanhope (1694- 
1773). An English author and courtier distinguished for his 
wit and politeness. His reputation as a writer rests chiefly 
upon his letters to his son, the style of which has been much 
admired. 

305 : 18. sherry cobblers, brandy toddy. Beverages com- 
posed of spirits and water, sweetened. 

306 : 33. ensconced. Sheltered. 

311 : 4. Cimarron. A river which, rising among the 
Raton mountains, near the boundary between Colorado 
and New Mexico, first runs eastward, entering Kansas near 
its southwestern angle, several times crossing the southern 
boundary of that state and finally passing into the Indian 
Territory, in which it empties into the Arkansas. The 
trail by the Upper Arkansas pursued by General Kearny 
was much shorter. 

311 : 6. Price's Missouri regiment. The force under Colonel 
Sterling Price, w^ho had recently resigned his seat in Con- 
gress as a representative from Missouri to enter the war, was 
made up of one Missouri regiment of cavalry, one mounted 
extra battalion, and one battalion of Mormon infantry — in 
all, twelve hundred men, with several pieces of artillery. 

311 : 20. Doniphan's regiment. In October, 1846, Colonel 
Alexander W. Doniphan, then in command of all the 
American forces in New Mexico, was ordered by General 
Kearny to invade the rich country of the Navajo Indians 
on the western and northern borders of New Mexico, and 
punish them for recent depredations on the frontier settle- 
ments of the territory, where they had driven away ten 
thousand cattle, killed seven or eight men, and taken many 
women and children captives. 



362 NOTES 

311 : 24. Sacramento. A river of Mexico, from a rocky 
hill on the banks of which Colonel Doniphan, with a force 
of 500 Americans, dislodged 4220 Mexicans. 

312 : 8. Chihuahua. Capital of the Mexican pro\dnce 
of the same name; which Colonel Doniphan, after the suc- 
cessful issue of his expedition against the Navajos, was 
sent to reduce. 

313 : 13. Springfield carbines. Short, light muskets or 
rifles, from the United States armory at Springfield, Mass., 
much used by cavalry in the '40 's. 

317 : 32. puerile. Silly. 

320 : 25. perturbation. Disquietude; trouble. 

322 : 7. cavalcade. A procession of horsemen. 

323 :31. carriages. The vehicles mentioned in Chapter 
I. as " large wagons of a peculiar form for the Santa F6 
trade." 

330 : 23. fusillade. A simultaneous discharge of fire- 
arms. 

333 : 36. Kansas Landing. Now Kansas City. 

334 : 29. Planters' House. The best known of the old 
hotels of St. Louis, now occupying a new building on the old 
site. 

335 : 42. railroads and steamboats. The first railroad 
to reach the Mississippi — at Rock Island — was not 
completed to that point till 1854 — eight years after the 
return of Parkman from his journey to the Rockies. 



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